Chapter 4 - ROOM 417
By nine the next morning, Evan was sitting in a coffee shop across from a seventy-six-year-old retired nurse named Joan Mercer.
She had answered his message after he found her name on an archived hospital roster.
She stared at Mara's death certificate for a long time.
"I wondered when one of you would come."
Evan leaned forward.
"You knew her?"
"I was her night nurse."
His throat tightened.
"Did she talk about me?"
"Constantly."
"She called you her little fighter."
"Then why did she leave me?"
"She didn't."
"Your father brought lawyers into the hospital."
"Martin?"
"And another woman."
"Helen."
"You know about that?"
"I know almost nothing."
Joan took a breath.
"Mara wanted you discharged with her."
"But?"
"A temporary custody order appeared claiming she was medically unstable and your father was the safer parent."
"Was she unstable?"
"She was weak. She was furious. She was not crazy."
"Did Helen sign anything?"
"She signed as the receiving guardian."
The words landed slowly.
Helen had not merely raised him after Mara died.
She had taken him while Mara was still alive.
"Mara fought it?"
"She screamed until her stitches opened."
Joan reached across the table.
"I'm sorry."
"What happened after she left the hospital?"
"She came back two days later."
"Why?"
"To see you."
Evan stopped breathing.
"Was I there?"
"No. Your father had already taken you home."
Joan reached into her purse and removed a folded copy of an old patient note.
"She left this with me because she was afraid someone was changing her chart."
At the bottom, Mara had written one sentence in shaky ink.
If anything happens to me, ask Helen what she took from my room.
Then his phone rang.
Helen.
She was whispering.
"Evan, don't come home."
"Why?"
A man's voice sounded in the background.
Calm.
Familiar.
May you like
Uncle Martin.
Then the call went dead.
