Chapter 5: The Hallway
Derek didn't leave.
I knew he wouldn't.
The nurse came back twenty minutes later and said he was still at the front desk, asking to speak with someone in hospital administration.
He hadn't raised his voice.
He was being polite, she said, almost apologetic — explaining that there had been a misunderstanding, that his wife wasn't well, that he was just worried about her and the baby.
Diane listened to all of this without changing her expression.
"He's performing," she said when the nurse left.
"He knows there are people watching."
"He's good at that," I said.
"Most of them are." She stood and straightened her jacket.
"I'm going to go speak with him."
Rachel sat up.
"Is that a good idea?"
"It's a very good idea," Diane said.
"I want to see how he behaves when he realizes the situation has changed." She looked at me.
"Do not leave this room.
Do not send anyone out to him.
Whatever you hear, stay here with Emily."
She walked out.
Rachel moved her chair to the side of the bed.
We didn't speak.
Emily slept in the bassinet, her chest rising and falling in the slow, perfect rhythm of someone who had no idea what was happening twelve feet away down the hall.
We could hear voices from the corridor.
Not words — just tones.
Derek's voice, which I could identify without seeing him: low, controlled, reasonable-sounding.
And Diane's, which was quieter and somehow more present.
Then Derek's voice rose slightly.
Rachel's hand found mine on the blanket.
Then it went quiet again.
Diane came back four minutes later.
She closed the door behind her, set her folder on the windowsill, and sat down.
"He wants to see Emily," she said.
"No," I said.
"That's what I told him." She paused.
"He also said, and I'm quoting directly, that he has no intention of letting you take his daughter out of the state of Ohio, and that his attorney will be filing an emergency motion by end of business today."
The room felt smaller suddenly.
"Can he do that?" Rachel asked.
"He can file," Diane said.
"Filing is easy.
What matters is what the filing says and what we say back." She looked at me steadily.
"He doesn't know about the notebook yet.
He doesn't know what you have.
Right now he believes he is the reasonable, worried husband and you are the unstable wife who fled in the night." A small pause.
"That is a position we can dismantle.
But I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly."
"Okay," I said.
"Is there anything in that notebook, or in those bank records, or in those screenshots, that could be used against you?
Anything that makes you look impulsive, unstable, or unfit?"
I thought about it carefully.
"No," I said.
"You're certain."
"I was careful," I said.
"I knew this day was coming.
I was careful about everything I wrote down."
Diane held my gaze for a moment.
Then she nodded.
"Good," she said.
"Because here's what Derek just told me in that hallway." She opened her folder.
"He said you have a history of anxiety.
He said you stopped taking medication during the pregnancy without telling your doctor.
He said he has emails from your OB expressing concern about your mental state."
Rachel made a sharp sound.
"That's not true," I said.
"I know," Diane said.
"But he said it with complete confidence, which means one of two things.
Either he fabricated it and is hoping you won't be able to disprove it quickly enough.
Or—" she paused— "he has something.
A document.
A message.
Something he's been holding onto."
The silence stretched.
"My OB's name is Dr.
Fenwick," I said.
"She never expressed any concern about my mental state.
Not once.
I have every appointment summary in my email."
"Forward them to me tonight," Diane said.
"All of them." She wrote something in her folder.
"He also said one more thing before I ended the conversation."
She looked up.
"He said Karen is just a friend.
And that you've been paranoid about her for months."
I didn't say anything.
"He said it very calmly," Diane added.
"Like a man who has rehearsed it."
Emily made a small sound in the bassinet.
I reached over and rested my hand lightly on her back without picking her up.
She settled.
"He rehearsed all of it," I said.
"He's been rehearsing since last night."
"Yes," Diane said.
"Which means we need to move faster than he expects." She closed the folder and stood.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning.
Tonight, I need you to write down everything you remember about Karen.
Every name she used.
Every date you can recall.
Every message." She picked up her bag.
"And get some rest if you can.
You just had a baby."
She left.
Rachel sat quietly for a moment.
"He's not going to stop," she said.
"No," I said.
"So what do we do?"
I looked at Emily.
Her fingers had curled again around the edge of her blanket, small and certain, holding on to something soft.
May you like
"We stop waiting for him to make the next move," I said.
"We make ours first."
