Chapter 3
The air in the room turned arctic. For five agonizing seconds, nobody moved. The only sound was the rhythmic beep of Claire’s heart monitor, accelerating from a steady seventy beats per minute to an erratic, panic-fueled gallop.
"Eli..." Claire whispered, her voice barely carrying across the sheets. She gripped the guardrail with white-knuckled intensity, ignoring the tearing ache in her lower abdomen. "Eli, baby, look at Mommy. Tell me the truth. Where did you see this?"
"Claire, don't listen to this insanity!" Luke shouted, his voice cracking into a panicked falsetto. He took a frantic step toward the bed, raising both hands defensively. "He had a nightmare in the waiting room! He woke up disoriented! You know how hyperactive his imagination is!"
"Shut up, Luke!" Claire shrieked with a venom she hadn't known she possessed. "Shut your mouth and let him speak!"
Eli pressed his face against Claire’s arm, tears soaking into her hospital sleeve, but he didn't back down. "Down the hall, Mommy. Near the stairs with the big red exit sign. Dad told me to sit on the bench and play on the tablet, but I had to go pee-pee. I went looking for him."
"And what did you see, sweetheart?" Camille asked gently, though her body remained planted like a brick wall in front of the bassinet, her hand resting firmly on the emergency call pendant around her neck.
"Dad had our baby in the blue blanket," Eli said, hiccuping through his tears. "And a lady with a dark yellow raincoat was standing by the door. She had this baby in a black carrier. Dad took June out of the blanket, gave her to the lady, and put this baby in our cart. The lady gave Dad a thick brown envelope. Then Dad saw me and dragged me back here and told me if I said anything, he would make sure Mommy never came home!"
Claire felt the room spin beneath her. Her gaze snapped from her son to the man she had been married to for six years. The man who had held her hand in the operating room just five hours ago.
"Luke..." Claire's voice was a low, guttural growl of disbelief. "Who was the woman in the raincoat?"
"Claire, he's lying! I swear to God on my life, he is making this up!" Luke pleaded, his eyes darting frantically between Camille and the door. "Why would I do that? Think about it logically! June is our daughter! We spent three years trying to conceive her! Why on earth would I give our baby to a stranger?!"
"Because of the money," Camille said coldly, holding up the scanner that was still blinking with the red error signal. "Or worse. This ID tag doesn't belong to this ward, Mr. Mercer. This electronic serial code was registered to a patient discharged three days ago. Someone dug it out of the medical disposal bins to fool the floor sensors. A child wouldn't know how to fabricate that."
"You don't know what you're talking about, you stupid nurse," Luke hissed, his mask of suburban perfection slipping entirely, revealing something dark and desperate underneath. "You're making an accusation that will ruin my life."
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"No, Mr. Mercer," Camille said, her thumb pressing down hard on the wall terminal behind her. "You ruined your own life."
Above the doorway, a shrill, piercing alarm began to pulse through the ceiling speakers. A synchronized voice echoed through the hallway: ATTENTION ALL STAFF: CODE PINK. SECTOR 4B. CODE PINK.
