Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN WHO REMEMBERED
|
St. Catherine's Residence sat behind a line of pine trees in a quiet Massachusetts town.
It was a private facility for elderly patients and people requiring long-term care. The building had been renovated twice, but its oldest wing remained almost untouched.
Nora arrived with Holly, Marcus, and Daniel.
She was eight months pregnant now.
Her steps were slower. Her back ached. But she refused to wait another day.
The administrator met them in a small office.
“We cannot disclose patient information without authorization.”
Marcus presented the relevant legal documents.
“We're investigating a potential unlawful confinement. We need to establish whether a woman named Eleanor Whitmore was ever admitted here under another name.”
The administrator looked at the paperwork.
Then she glanced at Nora.
“Please wait.”
She left the room.
Nora stood beside the window.
“What if she's alive?”
Holly spoke gently.
“We'll find out.”
The administrator returned twenty minutes later.
“I found a historical admission record under the name Elena Ward.”
Nora's heart began pounding.
“What year?”
“The year your mother disappeared.”
“Is she here?”
The administrator hesitated.
“No. She was transferred to another facility years ago.”
“Where?”
“We have a transfer note, but the records are incomplete.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“Who authorized the transfer?”
The administrator checked the file.
“Arthur Pike.”
Nora closed her eyes.
They had found another piece.
The administrator led them to the archive room and brought out a box of old records.
Inside was a photograph of Eleanor, older and thinner than the woman Nora remembered from the family photographs.
She was sitting in a wheelchair.
Her eyes were open.
Nora touched the photograph.
“That's her.”
Daniel turned away.
A nurse who had worked at the facility for decades was called into the room.
Her name was Margaret Ellis.
When she saw the photograph, she became visibly upset.
“I remember her.”
Nora stepped closer.
“Did she speak?”
“Sometimes. Not often. She was frightened of men who came to visit.”
“Who?”
“Two men. One older, one younger.”
Nora's voice trembled.
“Was the younger one Camden Rourke?”
Margaret stared at her.
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
“He visited her?” Nora asked.
“Several times. He told us he was a relative.”
“Did she recognize him?”
Margaret nodded.
“She would become upset. Once she tried to leave her room when he arrived.”
Nora covered her mouth.
“Did he hurt her?”
“I never saw him strike her. But after his visits, she would stop eating.”
Marcus asked, “Do you remember when she was transferred?”
Margaret nodded.
“She was taken away one night. I questioned the order because it didn't come through the normal medical office.”
“Where did they take her?”
“I don't know.”
Margaret looked at Nora.
“But she gave me something before she left.”
She reached into her pocket and removed a small folded card.
On it was a phone number.
And beneath it, a sentence.
If my daughter comes looking, tell her I never stopped waiting.
Nora began to cry.
Then Margaret added something else.
“There's another thing you should know. The last time Camden visited, he told her that the little girl had been adopted and would never remember her.”
Nora's tears stopped.
“He knew I was alive.”
May you like
Margaret nodded.
“And he knew exactly where you were.”
