Chapter 12 - Rebecca
Victor arrived at the psychiatric facility with Dana, two federal agents, and a fury that made everyone move faster.
Simon was gone.
Rebecca Cross was not.
She sat in a locked room near the end of the hall, thin and pale, her dark hair cut unevenly at her shoulders.
When Victor showed her Rosie’s photograph, Rebecca stopped breathing.
“My baby.”
Victor’s throat tightened.
“You know her?”
Rebecca touched the picture with shaking fingers.
“Rose.”
Eli had always called her Rosie.
Victor sat across from her.
“Simon told everyone you were too sick to care for her.”
Rebecca laughed without humor.
“Simon told everyone whatever made Simon money.”
She described postpartum depression, treatment, and a brother who used her illness to obtain guardianship.
Then she described waking one night to hear him discussing an adoption payment with a couple from overseas.
“Elena heard him.”
Victor leaned forward.
“She took Rose?”
“She saved Rose.”
Rebecca began to cry.
“Elena promised she would bring her back when Simon couldn’t reach us anymore.”
But Elena died first.
Rebecca had spent almost a year believing her daughter was dead.
Victor called the townhouse.
No answer.
He called again.
Nothing.
Dana was already moving.
They reached Beacon Hill in twelve minutes.
The front door was open.
Inside, a chair lay overturned.
Sam was hiding beneath the dining table.
Victor nearly collapsed with relief.
“Where are the others?”
Sam pointed toward the back door.
“Bad doctor took Rosie.”
Victor’s vision went red.
“Eli and Nora?”
“They followed.”
Dana checked the security feed.
Simon had entered wearing paramedic clothing.
He took Rosie.
Thirty seconds later, Eli and Nora ran after him.
The exterior camera caught Simon forcing all three into a white van.
Victor stared at the screen.
Then Sam tugged his sleeve.
“Eli left you something.”
He held out a red crayon.
On the floor beneath the table, Eli had drawn three quick shapes.
A bridge.
A ship.
And the number 17.
May you like
Victor knew exactly where Simon was going.
Pier 17.
