Chapter 15 - NOAH DISAPPEARED
I thought the worst was over.
That was my mistake.
By afternoon, Victoria and Voss were in custody.
The fraudulent vote was suspended.
The genuine acquisition vote was postponed.
Rebecca’s conflict was documented.
Daniel’s cooperation discussions began.
Then my phone rang.
The hospital.
Noah was missing.
For three seconds, I could not understand the words.
“What do you mean missing?”
A nurse explained.
A man wearing transport credentials arrived with paperwork moving Noah to another diagnostic unit.
The documents looked authentic.
Noah was placed in a wheelchair.
By the time staff verified the transfer, he was gone.
I could barely breathe.
Detective Ortiz took the phone.
Security footage showed the man leaving through a service entrance with Noah.
A gray van drove away.
Victoria and Voss were both already detained.
Daniel was in jail.
Who was left?
Then Margaret called from her hospital room.
Her voice trembled.
“Emma.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“But I know who took him.”
“How?”
“I recognized the man.”
“Who?”
Margaret began crying.
“Daniel’s father.”
I thought she was confused.
Daniel’s father, Henry Mercer, supposedly died four years ago.
Heart attack.
Small funeral.
Closed casket because of extensive medical donation arrangements.
Another dead person who might not be dead.
Margaret confessed.
Henry had not died.
He disappeared after federal investigators began examining his investment business.
Margaret helped fake part of the aftermath.
Daniel knew.
I did not.
Henry had been living abroad.
And according to Margaret, he introduced Daniel to Victoria.
My entire marriage seemed built on secret doors.
Detective Ortiz traced the van.
Abandoned.
No Noah.
Then my son’s smartwatch sent another emergency signal.
The same watch police had returned to him that morning.
One location.
An old Mercer family warehouse near the river.
Under the signal was a six-second audio clip.
Henry’s voice.
“Your father should have finished this when he had the chance.”
Then Noah.
“You’re not my grandpa.”
My boy sounded terrified.
But awake.
Alive.
I grabbed my coat.
Ortiz stopped me.
“You are not going inside.”
May you like
“I’m his mother.”
“And I’m going to bring him back.”
