Chapter 7 - The File Called Mother
Ortiz drove blind for three seconds, scraping a stone wall before stopping behind the volunteer fire station. The drone swept past, searching the open road. Nobody spoke until it was gone.
âStill think we're trespassers?â Marcus asked.
âI think somebody really doesn't want you talking,â Ortiz said.
She radioed the fire chief and borrowed a basement room with no windows. A paramedic dressed Marcus's shoulder. He urged Clara to let him examine the blue veins, but she couldn't stand the thought of another stranger treating her like a specimen.
June sat beside her on a folding chair. âYou can say no,â she whispered.
Clara glanced at the girl, surprised. âNobody ever told you that, did they?â
âNo.â
A nurse arrived carrying copies of old hospital records. Ortiz had called in a favor. The pages described a cluster of neurological illnesses around Blackthorn Creek. Asterion had paid for private follow-up care and demanded confidentiality in return.
The last folder bore Elena Reyes's name.
Clara opened it with both hands. The death report was incomplete. The discharge signature was dated three weeks after Elena's supposed death.
âSomeone signed her out of a hospital after she died?â Ortiz asked.
âOr she never died,â Marcus said.
June unfolded a page tucked inside the file. In a thin, unsteady script, someone had written: THEY USED MY BLOOD. THEY'LL USE THE GIRLS NEXT. RESERVOIR ANNEX, LOWER LEVEL.
Marcus pressed the paper against his mouth. âThat's her handwriting.â
Clara felt the room shift around her. All her life she'd imagined her mother as a kind woman who died before Clara had memories. Now she knew Elena was real, but not exactly her mother, and might still be alive.
A phone rang on the fire chief's desk. Ortiz answered it, listened, and turned gray.
âIt's Asterion,â she said. âThey're announcing an emergency treatment at four in the morning.â
âTreatment for what?â Clara asked.
May you like
Ortiz looked at the records.
âThey won't say.â
