Chapter 3

The rain did not stop.

I stood outside the back gate of the Stone house with my two wet trash bags and stared at the door they had slammed in my face. My shirt was stuck to my skin and my hair was dripping into my eyes. I was so cold my teeth would not stop shaking.

My coat was inside, behind that door, and so was the test.

I walked back to the gate and pressed the button. Once. Twice. Three times.

A voice came from the little speaker. It was one of the security men.

"Go away, Miss Carter. Mrs. Stone said you are not allowed on this property anymore."

"Please," I said. "I just need my coat. It's hanging in the laundry room. Just my coat, and I'll go."

There was a pause. Then the speaker clicked off.

Nobody came.

I stood there in the rain until my fingers went numb. Then I picked up my bags and started walking. I didn't know where I was going. I only knew I couldn't stand in front of that house like a dog waiting for scraps.

At the bus stop, I sat on the cold bench and called Rosie.

"Ivy? Did you sign? Are you on your way?"

When I heard her voice, I broke. I cried so hard I couldn't talk. An old man waiting for the bus moved to the other end of the bench.

"Ivy! Ivy, what happened? Talk to me!"

I told her everything: the doctor, the drink, the test that said two lines while the doctor said "negative," the papers, and the security men.

Rosie was quiet for a long time. When she spoke again, her voice was shaking with anger.

"Those evil people. Okay. Listen to me. I'm stuck at the hospital until seven tonight. The key is under the blue flower pot. You go to my apartment, you take a hot shower, and you lock the door. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you."

"Promise me, Ivy."

"I promise."

But when the bus came, I didn't take the one that went to Rosie's apartment.

I took the one that went to Maple Grove Care Home.

---

I had to see Eleanor.

That message would not leave my head. *They lied to you about Eleanor's stroke.* If someone had hurt her, the only person in that whole family who had ever loved me, I needed to know.

The care home was quiet and warm and smelled of soap and soup. Janet, the nurse at the front desk, looked up and her mouth fell open.

"Ivy? Honey, you're soaked! What happened to you?"

"I got caught in the rain." I tried to smile. "Can I see her? Just for a few minutes?"

Janet looked at me for a long moment. Then she came around the desk and wrapped a soft blue blanket around my shoulders.

"Room twelve," she said gently. "She's been asking for you. In her own way."

Eleanor was sitting in her wheelchair by the window, watching the rain. She looked so small. Her silver hair was combed nicely, but her face hung down on one side, and her right hand lay still in her lap like it didn't belong to her.

A year ago this woman ran a company worth billions. She used to shout at board members on the phone while I painted her nails.

"Eleanor," I whispered. "It's me."

She turned her head slowly. When she saw me, her eyes filled with tears.

I knelt down beside her chair and took her left hand, the one that still worked. It was thin and warm.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said. "They didn't let me. Margaret said you needed rest."

Her fingers tightened around mine.

I looked at the door to make sure it was closed. Then I leaned close to her ear.

"Eleanor, I have something to tell you. I'm pregnant. It's Gabriel's baby."

I felt her whole body go still.

Then she started to cry. It wasn't sad crying. Her mouth was trying to smile on the side that still worked, and she squeezed my hand so hard it almost hurt.

I laughed and cried with her. For one small moment, I wasn't alone. Somebody in this world was happy about my baby.

"They tried to make me sign a paper," I whispered. "It said I'm not pregnant and that the baby gets nothing. Margaret brought a doctor. Dr. Hale. He lied about the test."

The moment I said *Hale*, her face changed.

Her eyes went wide. She made a sound in her throat, low and broken, like she was trying to scream. Her hand pulled away from mine, and with one shaking finger she pointed at the small tray beside her bed.

On the tray was a little plastic cup with three white pills inside.

"Your medicine?" I asked.

She shook her head hard, as hard as she could.

Then she grabbed my hand again, turned it palm up, and started drawing on it with her finger. Slowly. Carefully.

A straight line down. Another straight line down. A line across the middle.

*H.*

My skin went cold.

"Hale," I whispered. "Dr. Hale did this to you?"

Eleanor closed her eyes, and tears ran down her face.

She nodded.

---

I found Janet in the small kitchen behind the front desk. She was pouring coffee.

"Janet," I said quietly. "Who gives Eleanor her medicine?"

She stopped pouring. She looked at the door behind me, then at me.

"Why are you asking?"

"Please. I need to know."

Janet put the coffee pot down. Her hands were not steady.

"I shouldn't say anything," she whispered. "I could lose my job. But I have been sick about it for two months, Ivy." She took a breath. "Dr. Hale came in two days before her stroke. He changed her heart medicine. He didn't write a reason. When I asked about it, he told me to mind my own business. Two days later, she had the stroke."

My knees felt weak. I held on to the counter.

"Did you tell anyone?"

"I told my boss. The next day, Mrs. Margaret Stone came in and made a very big donation to this home." Janet looked down. "After that, my boss told me to forget it."

"Do you still have the chart?"

Janet didn't answer. She just walked to a gray cabinet, took out a folder, and opened it on the counter. Then she turned around and looked out the window.

"I'm going to look at the rain for one minute," she said. "I don't see anything."

My hands were shaking as I took out my phone and took pictures. Every page. The dates. The old medicine. The new medicine. Dr. Hale's signature in black ink at the bottom.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Janet turned back and closed the folder. Her eyes were wet.

"Be careful, honey," she said. "Dr. Hale comes here every Thursday at five."

I looked at the clock on the wall.

It was Thursday, and the time was 4:52.

---

I didn't run. Running would make people look. I walked fast down the hall with the blanket still on my shoulders and my bags in my hands. I pushed out the front door into the rain.

A long gray car was pulling into the parking lot. I didn't wait to see who was driving. I turned the other way and walked toward the street.

My heart was beating so hard it hurt. I put one hand on my stomach.

*It's okay, baby. We're okay. We're going to Rosie's now. We're going to be safe.*

At the corner, I heard a car behind me.

I looked back. It was a black car with dark windows. It was moving slowly, very slowly, staying right behind me.

I walked faster. The car moved faster.

I turned onto a small side street. The car turned too.

My breath came short and quick. The street was empty. There were no shops and no people, only rain and gray buildings and that black car.

I started to run.

My bags were heavy. My shoes slipped on the wet sidewalk. Behind me, the car stopped. I heard a door open, then fast footsteps.

Before I could scream, a hand grabbed my arm from behind and pulled me back hard.

A man's voice spoke low in my ear.

"Don't scream, Ivy. I'm the one who sent you the text.”