CHAPTER 2 — Quincy’s Memory
The world stopped making sense.
The mother pulled the blanket open just enough.
A tiny hand moved.
Weak. Barely alive.
Her sob broke—but not loudly.
It was the kind of sound that comes when someone refuses to believe what they’re seeing.
“She’s alive…” she whispered.
Behind her, the husband staggered back.
“That’s impossible…” he said.
Quincy didn’t move.
He just stood there, watching.
Calm.
Too calm for a child.
The mother turned to him.
“How did you know?” she asked.
Quincy hesitated.
Then—
“I saw them take her.”
Silence.
The grandmother arrived at the doorway at that exact moment.
Her eyes landed on the blanket.
And something inside her face cracked for the first time.
“No…” she whispered.
But Quincy continued.
“They didn’t put her in the records.”
He looked at the mother.
“They wrote that she died… but I saw the bracelet on her foot.”
The hospital ID tag.
Still attached.
Wrong label.
Wrong name.
Wrong death.
The mother turned toward the husband instantly.
His face went pale.
“That’s not possible,” he said too fast.
But Quincy reached into his pocket.
And pulled out something else.
A small folded hospital form.
Stamped.
Unsigned.
Unlogged.
Proof of transfer.
The mother’s hands trembled as she took it.
Then—
May you like
She saw the signature.
Her husband’s name.
