Chapter 4: The Woman in the Photograph
For seventeen years, I had believed my mother was dead.
Now I was staring at a photograph proving she was alive, and the message beneath it claimed Nathaniel Callaway was the reason she had disappeared.
I read it again.
Don't bring the Callaway boy. He is the reason she disappeared.
Nathaniel stood beside me, his face illuminated by the screen.
"Rose, don't go anywhere.""
I pulled the phone against my chest.
"That's my mother.""
"I know.""
"You don't understand. I've spent seventeen years thinking I would never see her again.""
"I understand more than you think.""
His voice cracked slightly.
"Someone is trying to use her to get to us. That's exactly why you can't walk into this alone.""
I stepped away.
"You just told me you weren't going to let anyone hurt me. Now you're asking me to ignore the first chance I've had to find my mother?""
"I'm asking you not to die trying to find her.""
The security officer approached.
"Mr. Callaway, should I contact the police?""
Nathaniel nodded.
"Immediately. Tell Detective Harris we have a possible kidnapping victim.""
I looked at the photograph again.
The room behind my mother was unfamiliar. A cream-colored curtain covered the window. There was a small vase of yellow flowers beside her wheelchair.
But something caught my attention.
Her left hand.
She was wearing the silver bracelet I had seen in the hospital photograph.
The same bracelet I remembered from my childhood.
I zoomed in.
A tiny red thread was tied around it.
My mother used to tie red threads around my wrist whenever I was frightened. She called them protection knots.
She had done that when I started school.
When I lost my first tooth.
When I woke up crying after nightmares.
I touched my own wrist.
I could almost feel her fingers again.
"She's alive," I whispered.
Nathaniel looked at me.
"Then we'll bring her home.""
Before he could say anything else, another message arrived.
You have thirty minutes. Come to the old Mercer Hotel. Room 614. Alone.
Nathaniel immediately shook his head.
"No.""
I looked at him.
"Then tell me what you would do if someone sent you a photograph of Eleanor and threatened to kill her unless you came alone.""
He didn't answer.
I walked toward the exit.
He caught up with me.
"Rose, wait.""
I turned.
"You're not coming with me.""
"You're not going without me.""
We stared at each other.
Finally, Nathaniel pulled out his phone.
"I'll stay outside. You go in only after I know the building is secure.""
I hesitated.
"Promise me you won't let anyone take her away.""
He looked directly into my eyes.
"I promise.""
The old Mercer Hotel stood on a quiet street in Midtown.
It had been closed for renovations for nearly two years, its windows dark and its entrance covered by temporary fencing.
A black sedan was parked across the street.
Nathaniel spotted it immediately.
"That's not a hotel security vehicle.""
He called Detective Harris.
"There's a car outside the Mercer. Run the plate.""
While he waited, I noticed a man standing near the entrance.
He wore a gray overcoat and held a folded newspaper.
When our eyes met, he lowered it.
I recognized him.
Not from the wedding.
From the photograph.
The young doctor on the identification card had aged, but the shape of his jaw and the deep-set eyes were unmistakable.
Dr. Thomas Sterling.
Victoria's father.
He walked toward us.
"Rose Carter," he said calmly.
Nathaniel stepped between us.
"Thomas Sterling.""
The older man smiled.
"Well, well. The Callaway heir and the missing girl's daughter. What an unfortunate reunion.""
"Where is my mother?"" I demanded.
Dr. Sterling adjusted his cufflinks.
"Alive. For now.""
Nathaniel grabbed his coat.
"Where is she?""
Sterling didn't flinch.
"Still giving orders, Nathaniel? You sound exactly like Robert.""
Nathaniel released him.
"What did you do to my mother?""
"Nothing. Eleanor was always difficult. She should have learned to stay out of other people's affairs.""
I stepped forward.
"Did you switch the babies?""
Sterling looked at me.
"Your mother was a very emotional woman. She misunderstood what happened.""
"Then explain it.""
He gave a quiet laugh.
"Not on a sidewalk.""
He reached into his coat and removed a small envelope.
"Your mother wants you to read this.""
I snatched it.
Inside was a photograph of Grace standing outside a hospital.
She looked about thirty years old.
Beside her was a tall man whose face had been scratched out.
On the back, someone had written:
The truth has a father. Find him before Victoria does.
I looked up.
"Who is this man?""
Sterling's smile disappeared.
"Someone who should have stayed dead.""
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
"Excuse me.""
He answered.
"Yes?""
A woman's voice came through loudly enough for me to hear.
"Father, get away from them. Now.""
Victoria.
Sterling looked toward the hotel entrance.
"What happened?""
Her voice sharpened.
"They have the original records.""
Sterling's eyes moved to Nathaniel.
For the first time, he looked frightened.
He turned and hurried toward the black sedan.
Nathaniel reached for him, but two men stepped out of the vehicle and blocked his path.
"Let him go!"" I shouted.
The sedan sped away.
Nathaniel immediately called Detective Harris.
"Thomas Sterling was here. He knows where Grace is.""
The detective's response made Nathaniel's expression change.
"What do you mean she isn't at the Mercer?""
He listened.
Then he looked at me.
"The building has been empty for two years.""
My stomach dropped.
We had been sent to an empty hotel.
But someone had known exactly where we would go.
Someone who had access to my mother's photograph.
Someone who knew about the cassette.
Nathaniel looked at the envelope in my hand.
"Rose, I think your mother left us another clue.""
I turned the photograph over again.
Under the handwritten message, almost hidden beneath the corner of the paper, was a series of numbers.
*10-17-97 / 3:17 / 11:42*
I recognized the first two immediately.
My birthday.
The locker number.
But the final number meant nothing.
Until Nathaniel looked at his watch.
"Eleven forty-two," he whispered.
I stared at him.
"What?""
He showed me his screen.
The message from the unknown number had a scheduled delivery time.
11:42 p.m.
And it was addressed to a contact saved under one name.
*Dad.*
Nathaniel's dead father had apparently received a message at the exact moment we opened the locker.
But the sender wasn't Robert Callaway.
It was someone using his old phone number.
And that meant someone had been maintaining his identity for fifteen years.
Someone wanted us to believe the dead man was still controlling everything.
We returned to Nathaniel's penthouse shortly before midnight.
Marcus was waiting in the private elevator lobby.
"Mr. Callaway, there's been a development.""
"What now?""
"Victoria Sterling has been released.""
Nathaniel stopped walking.
"Released? She pushed my mother off a building.""
"Her lawyer secured temporary release pending formal charges. The prosecution is reviewing the evidence.""
"Where is she?""
Marcus hesitated.
"At your family estate.""
Nathaniel laughed without humor.
"She has some nerve.""
Then Marcus handed him a second envelope.
"This was delivered to the penthouse.""
Nathaniel opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
If you want to know why your father chose Rose over you, ask Eleanor what happened at 11:42 p.m. on October 17, 1997.
I looked at Nathaniel.
He looked back.
Neither of us spoke.
Then his phone rang.
It was Eleanor.
Nathaniel answered immediately.
"Mom?""
Her voice sounded terrified.
"Nathaniel, listen carefully. Don't come to the estate.""
"Why?""
"Because Victoria is here.""
A crash sounded in the background.
Then Eleanor whispered four words.
May you like
"She's found the second baby.""
The call disconnected.
