Chapter 4 - The Woman in the Frame
The silence in the manager’s office was absolute, broken only by the distant, muffled sounds of the restaurant’s chaotic dinner rush outside the thick wooden door.
Emma stared at Julian, watching the color slowly drain from his face until his tan complexion was ashen. His eyes, usually so sharp and authoritative, were wide and unblinking, fixed on his little boy.
"Victoria has my hospital bracelet?" Emma whispered, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.
A sickening realization began to take root in the pit of her stomach. Victoria. The name echoed in her mind, unlocking a door she had kept tightly shut for five years.
Victoria had been a junior nurse at the clinic where Emma gave birth. She had been the one holding Emma’s hand when the anesthesia wore off. She had been the one who brought Emma cups of ice chips, brushing Emma’s hair back, whispering sweet, comforting assurances when Julian had been forced to step out to call his parents. Victoria had been the one who, three days later, came into Emma’s room with a devastatingly solemn expression and told her that Julian had taken the baby and left the hospital.
"Julian," Emma said, her voice shaking violently. "You married Victoria? The nurse from Memorial Hospital?"
Julian finally tore his eyes away from Leo and looked at her. He looked physically ill. "She... she was there for me, Emma. After you left. When the lawyer gave me the papers, I was falling apart. I had a newborn baby, I was terrified, and I didn't know how to do it alone. Victoria reached out. She said she wanted to check on Leo. She helped me. She saved us."
"She didn't save you!" Emma cried out, trying to stand up, but the agonizing tear in her shoulder forced her back down onto the leather cushion. Tears streamed down her face, hot and furious. "She was the one who told me you left! She came into my room and told me you had filed for emergency sole custody. She said if I tried to fight you, your family would use my postpartum depression to have me locked in a psychiatric facility and I would never see my baby again!"
"That's a lie," Julian breathed, stumbling back a step. He ran a hand through his dark hair, gripping the roots tightly. "That's insane. Why would she do that? She barely knew you."
"I don't know!" Emma sobbed, clutching the torn front of her uniform. "But she was the last person in my room before I fell asleep that night. When I woke up, my silver bracelet was gone. My baby was gone. You were gone."
Julian shook his head, retreating toward the desk. He was a man watching the foundation of his entire life crumble into dust. "No. No, I have a life with her. We have a house. She’s Leo’s mother—"
"I’m Leo’s mother!" Emma screamed, the raw, primal sound tearing from her throat.
Leo whimpered, stepping back and hiding behind his father's leg.
Emma immediately covered her mouth, her chest heaving, deeply ashamed of scaring him. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the boy. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to yell."
Julian looked at her, his breathing shallow and rapid. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. His hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped it. "I'm calling her. I'm going to get to the bottom of this right now."
Before he could dial, the heavy office door swung open. A pair of EMTs rushed into the room, carrying a heavy orange medical bag. The restaurant manager was hovering nervously behind them.
"Let us see the shoulder, ma'am," the first paramedic said, immediately stepping between Emma and Julian.
Emma winced as they gently peeled the bloody towel away. The paramedic muttered something under his breath and reached for a pair of heavy medical shears.
"This shirt is ruined anyway, we need to cut it to get a clear look at the wound," the paramedic said.
As they snipped the cheap white fabric of her uniform, they had to move her heavy, worn winter coat that was draped over the back of the sofa.
As the coat shifted, something fell from the deep, frayed pocket.
It fluttered to the carpet, landing directly at Julian's feet.
Julian stared down at it. It was a faded, heavily creased piece of heavy-stock paper. He slowly bent down and picked it up.
It was a train ticket. A one-way ticket to Seattle.
Julian’s eyes scanned the faded ink. He looked at Emma, his expression shifting from panicked confusion to a terrifying, absolute stillness.
"Emma," Julian said, his voice dropping to a dead, hollow whisper. "This ticket is for a train that left Union Station at 11:30 PM on the night you left."
Emma nodded weakly as the paramedic applied a stinging antiseptic to her back. "Yes. After Victoria told me you were going to have me committed, I panicked. I ran. I bought that ticket with the last twenty dollars I had."
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Julian stared at the ticket, his thumb tracing the date stamped in red ink. He slowly looked up, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a devastating intensity.
"Emma... the hospital logs Victoria gave me showed you checked yourself out against medical advice at 8:00 AM that morning. Not at night." Julian stepped closer, the ticket trembling in his hand. "Where were you for fifteen hours?"
