Chapter 3 - Playing along
I swallowed the lump of glass in my throat. I looked at the open door, at the heavy-set guard standing outside, at Daniel’s unyielding, cruel eyes.
If I fought them now, head-on, I would lose. They had the power, the money, the doctors, and the institution behind them. I was a bruised, bleeding woman in a hospital gown with no evidence other than a memory of a baby I saw through a window two days ago.
If I went to a psychiatric asylum, I would never find the truth. I would never find my real child.
I had to play their game. I had to make them believe they had broken me.
I lowered my head, letting my shoulders slump. I let out a long, shuddering sob, letting fresh tears cascade down my cheeks.
“I... I don’t want to go to an asylum,” I whimpered, making my voice sound fragile, shattered. “Daniel, please... I’m just so confused. My head hurts so bad.”
Daniel’s expression instantly softened, returning to that sickeningly sweet mask of a loving husband. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I forced myself not to recoil from his touch.
“I know, sweetie,” he cooed, patting my hair. “It’s the trauma. The hormones. Dr. Keller said postpartum shock can cause vivid hallucinations and severe paranoia. I forgive you. We all forgive you.”
“Can I... can I see her?” I asked, keeping my voice small. “The baby?”
“Of course you can,” Daniel smiled.
Ten minutes later, Victoria walked into the room carrying the baby. She wore a tailored beige suit and a pearl necklace, looking like a queen inspecting a peasant. She offered me a sharp, victorious smirk before smoothing her facial expression into forced concern.
“Oh, Clara,” Victoria sighed, handing the swaddled baby to me. “What a terrifying scare you gave us all last night. We were so worried about your mental health.”
I took the baby into my arms. I looked down at her face. She was asleep, her chest rising and falling softly. I gently moved the edge of the blanket near her left ear. The crescent birthmark was there. A quiet, tiny girl born on March 12.
Who are you? I thought, my heart aching for the unknown mother who had lost this child, and for my own baby, somewhere out there in the cold world. And where is my daughter?
“She’s... she’s beautiful,” I lied, looking up at Daniel and Victoria with a weak, compliant smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me last night. The pain... the medication... I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“That’s my sensible girl,” Victoria said, tapping my cheek with a manicured nail. “We’ve arranged for you to be discharged tomorrow morning. You’ll recover much better at home under my supervision.”
Under her supervision. Meaning under her watch. I was going to be a prisoner in my own home.
That night, when the room was quiet and the hospital had settled into its dark routine, I pretended to sleep. Daniel had gone home to rest, leaving a nurse stationed outside my room.
At 2:00 AM, the door quietly opened. A young woman in scrub pants and a midnight-blue top stepped inside. It wasn’t the head nurse from the night before. This was a young order nurse—her badge read S. CHEN.
She walked over to my bed to check my IV drip. As she leaned over, I noticed her hands were trembling.
“Nurse Chen?” I whispered softly.
She jumped, nearly dropping her chart. “Oh! Mrs. Mercer. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’m awake,” I said softly. I sat up, leaning closer to her. I looked at her eyes—they were wide, full of anxiety. “Nurse Chen... please. I know what happened.”
She froze, her eye darting nervously toward the closed door. “I... I don’t know what you mean. I’m just taking your vitals.”
“The baby,” I pleaded, tears welling in my eyes. I grabbed her wrist gently. “The baby I’m holding... she belongs to someone else. Please. I saw her in the NICU on the twelfth. You know the truth, don’t you? What did they do with my baby?”
Nurse Chen swallowed hard. She looked terrifyingly torn. She leaned in close, lowering her voice to an imperceptible whisper.
“I wasn’t on shift during your delivery,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “But... but there was a fire alarm pulled in the records room last night right after your C-section. Shredder trucks were parked in the back alley at 4:00 AM. They cleared out the NICU registry logs for the entire month of March.”
My blood ran cold. “Who cleared them?”
“Dr. Keller,” she whispered. “And your mother-in-law. She was in his private office for two hours before you gave birth.”
“Why?” I begged. “Where is my baby?”
Nurse Chen looked at me with profound pity. “I don’t know where your baby is, Mrs. Mercer. But if you want to find out... you need to look into Project Horizon. That’s what was written on the intake file Dr. Keller threw into the incinerator.”
Before I could ask another question, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Nurse Chen pulled back abruptly, grabbed her chart, and walked out of the room without another word.
May you like
Project Horizon.
The name burned into my memory. Whatever trap they had laid for me, it was bigger than a simple hospital cover-up. It was a conspiracy. And I was going to tear it down.
