The Woman in Room 417
Chapter 05 - The Woman in Room 417
Claire was in Room 417 at Queens Municipal Hospital.
She had pneumonia, severe dehydration, and a head injury the doctor believed had occurred before she collapsed.
Grant claimed he found her phone near our car after she confronted him outside his office.
Officer Ruiz did not arrest him. Possessing a phone was suspicious, but it was not enough.
Not yet.
Grant followed us to the hospital, insisting he had the right to remain because he was my husband.
I told security he was not welcome in Claire’s room.
It was the first order I had given against him that he could not overturn with a board vote.
Hope stopped outside the door.
“What if she doesn’t wake up?”
I knelt, ignoring the expensive skirt pressing against the dirty hospital floor.
“Then we sit beside her until she does.”
Hope studied my face.
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
She did not believe me completely.
I could not blame her.
Claire looked much older than forty-three. Her dark hair was threaded with gray, and her hands were rough from years of physical work.
I sat beside the sister I had condemned without ever asking for her side.
“I’m here,” I whispered. “Norie is here.”
Norie was the name Claire had called me when we were children.
Her eyelids moved.
Hope climbed onto the chair and pressed both hands around Claire’s fingers.
Claire’s eyes opened.
For a moment, she appeared frightened.
Then she saw me.
“Norie?”
My composure broke.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire’s lips trembled.
“You found her.”
“She found me.”
Hope leaned close.
“I drew the picture like you said.”
Claire tried to smile.
“I knew she’d stop.”
I thought about my heel crushing the portrait’s eye.
“I almost didn’t.”
Claire turned her face toward me.
“You always stop when someone finally makes you look.”
The words were gentle, which made them hurt more.
I showed her the hospital bracelet.
“Is Hope my daughter?”
Claire’s gaze moved to the door.
Grant stood beyond the glass wall, watching us.
“Yes,” she whispered.
I gripped the edge of the bed.
“Why did you take her?”
“I didn’t take her from you. I took her from them.”
“Who?”
Claire began coughing. The monitor beside her accelerated.
A nurse entered and asked us to step back.
I leaned closer before they pushed me away.
“Claire, who told me my baby was dead?”
She raised one shaking hand and pointed toward the glass.
May you like
Toward my husband.
“Grant made the doctor lie.”
