Chapter 2 - The Man in the Garage
The elevator doors opened thirty yards away.
A man stepped out.
Black suit.
No tie.
Broad shoulders.
He didn’t walk toward a parked car.
He walked toward us.
Dad started the engine.
“Seat belt.”
“Who is he?”
“I don't know.”
The paramedic was still watching Leo’s monitor.
“We need a hospital.”
Dad shifted into drive.
“We're going.”
The man raised his phone.
He appeared to take a picture of our license plate.
Then he began running.
Dad accelerated.
The SUV shot toward the exit.
My phone rang again.
Beatrice.
I rejected it.
Again.
Rejected.
Then Ryan.
Then Beatrice.
Then a number I didn't recognize.
Dad glanced in the mirror.
“Turn it off.”
“I want to know what they're saying.”
“You want Leo alive more.”
That ended the argument.
The paramedic adjusted the oxygen mask.
“Come on, little man.”
“What's wrong with him?”
“I can't tell you yet.”
“Is he dying?”
His eyes met mine.
“We're not letting that happen.”
Those were not the words I wanted.
I wanted him to say no.
Instead, he said we would try.
I held Leo’s hand all the way to the hospital.
At the emergency entrance, medical staff rushed him through double doors.
A nurse stopped me.
“Mom can come.”
Dad remained behind.
I followed Leo.
Doctors surrounded him.
Questions came rapidly.
Had he eaten anything unusual?
Any medications?
Allergies?
Falls?
Existing conditions?
I answered everything.
Then came the question I dreaded.
“Do you know how he got this mark?”
“No.”
The doctor looked at me.
“Are you sure?”
“My husband knew it was there.”
That changed the room.
The doctor stopped writing.
“What do you mean?”
I told him exactly what Ryan had said.
The doctor quietly asked the nurse to contact hospital security.
Within twenty minutes, Dad was allowed into the treatment area.
“What happened to the man?”
“Lost him.”
“You followed him?”
“No. Leo comes first.”
The doctor entered.
She introduced herself as Dr. Hannah Mercer.
“Leo is responding to treatment.”
My knees nearly gave out.
I covered my mouth.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“We're optimistic.”
“What happened?”
“We need laboratory confirmation before I give you a definitive answer.”
She looked toward the mark beneath Leo’s ear.
“But I don't think you overreacted by bringing him here.”
Dad understood what she wasn't saying.
“Could somebody have administered something?”
“That's one possibility.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Somebody.
My son.
His birthday.
I gripped the edge of the bed.
“Why?”
Nobody answered.
My phone began vibrating inside my handbag.
Dad took it.
“Ryan?”
I nodded.
“Don't answer yet.”
“But if he knows—”
“He already knows too much.”
Dad stared at the phone.
“We need him talking.”
He asked a security officer whether calls could be recorded legally.
After a short conversation and clarification of what could be done, Dad handed the phone back.
“Don't accuse him. Let him explain himself.”
I answered.
Ryan exploded immediately.
“Where the hell are you?”
“Hospital.”
Silence.
Then his voice softened.
“Which hospital?”
“Why?”
“Because that's my son.”
“Then tell me how you knew about his neck.”
Nothing.
“Ryan?”
“I saw it earlier.”
“When?”
“When Mom was holding him.”
“Mom held him?”
Another silence.
I remembered the party.
Had Beatrice held Leo while I spoke to guests?
Maybe for thirty seconds.
Maybe a minute.
My memory suddenly felt unreliable.
“When?”
“I don't know, Mariana. Earlier.”
“You saw a mark beneath his ear and didn't tell me?”
“I thought it was a scratch.”
“Then why did you ask whether Dad saw it?”
“Because you're acting insane.”
That sentence did something unexpected.
It calmed me.
Ryan always did that when cornered.
He changed the subject from what he had done to how I reacted.
I had spent years apologizing afterward.
Not tonight.
“Who put the camera in the suite?”
His breathing stopped.
Dad looked at me sharply.
I hadn't planned to ask.
Ryan whispered, “What camera?”
“The one above the bed.”
“There's no camera.”
“How would you know?”
Another mistake.
Smaller than the first.
But Dad heard it too.
Ryan tried to recover.
“Because it's a hotel room.”
“So?”
“Why would there be a camera?”
“I didn't tell you where it was.”
Silence.
Dad slowly nodded.
Keep going.
“Ryan?”
“Listen to me. Stay there. I'm coming.”
“No.”
“Mariana—”
“No.”
“You're confused.”
“My baby is on oxygen.”
“Which hospital?”
I ended the call.
My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped the phone.
Dad took it.
“You did well.”
“What is happening?”
“I don't know yet.”
Then Dr. Mercer returned.
This time she wasn't alone.
A hospital administrator and a security officer came with her.
That frightened me more than anything.
Dr. Mercer closed the door.
“We received the preliminary toxicology screen.”
I grabbed Dad’s arm.
“What did they find?”
She named a sedating substance.
A medication Leo had never been prescribed.
My stomach turned.
“How much?”
“Enough that we're taking this extremely seriously.”
“Could he have swallowed it?”
“The presentation and the mark make accidental exposure less likely, but we'll need further testing.”
I looked at my sleeping child.
Someone had put something into my one-year-old son.
I thought about Beatrice’s tea.
Drink it and rest. I’ll take Leo.
Suddenly that cup seemed different.
“Dad.”
He knew.
“The tea.”
“What tea?”
I told him.
His face hardened.
“Did you drink any?”
“No.”
“Where's the cup?”
“At the hotel.”
He immediately pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure it doesn't disappear.”
He called someone he knew.
While he spoke, I opened my messages.
There were twenty-seven.
Ryan.
Beatrice.
Ryan again.
Then one from Beatrice caught my attention.
You are misunderstanding everything. Bring Leo back before you destroy this family.
Not Is Leo okay?
Not What happened?
Bring Leo back.
My skin crawled.
Then another message arrived.
Unknown number.
No words.
Just a photograph.
I opened it.
It was taken in the parking garage less than an hour earlier.
It showed me climbing into Dad’s SUV with Leo.
Underneath was a single sentence.
You should have stayed upstairs.
I handed the phone to Dad.
His face changed.
“Security.”
The officer stepped closer.
Dad showed him.
“Someone knows we're here.”
The officer immediately left to arrange protection.
I stared at the photograph.
Then I noticed something in its lower corner.
A reflection in the SUV window.
The person taking the photograph wasn't alone.
Behind him stood another figure.
A woman in a glittering champagne gown.
Beatrice.
And she was looking directly at the camera.
May you like
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