Chapter 4 - The Photograph Taken Three Weeks Ago

Alexander stared at the photograph for so long that Elena finally said his name.

“Sir?”

He blinked.

Then looked at the date again.

Three weeks.

Not two years.

Not one year.

Three weeks.

Evelyn was alive.

Ethan could not see the photograph from where he stood.

“Daddy?”

Alexander immediately turned it face down.

He did not want hope to become another wound until he knew more.

“Go with Elena for a minute.”

Ethan shook his head.

“No.”

Alexander paused.

The boy looked toward Mrs. Whitmore.

“I want to stay.”

That answer hurt more than Alexander expected.

He nodded.

“All right.”

Then he faced his mother.

“Who took the photograph?”

Mrs. Whitmore remained silent.

Alexander lifted it.

“Who?”

“A security contractor.”

“For what?”

“To confirm she remained at the facility.”

Ethan stared.

Alexander’s voice dropped.

“You had someone watching my wife.”

“She was unstable.”

Elena looked at Evelyn’s face in the photograph.

She did not look unstable.

She looked thin.

Tired.

And very aware of the camera.

Alexander picked up the phone on the library desk.

Mrs. Whitmore stepped forward.

“Who are you calling?”

“Briar Glen.”

“You cannot simply arrive there.”

“Watch me.”

He dialed.

A receptionist answered.

Alexander gave Evelyn’s name.

There was a pause.

Then the woman said:

“We have no patient by that name.”

Mrs. Whitmore’s shoulders relaxed.

Elena saw it.

Alexander did too.

He looked at the admission form again.

The patient identification number was printed beneath Evelyn’s name.

He read it aloud.

The receptionist went silent.

Then:

“One moment, sir.”

Another voice came on.

Male.

Professional.

“Mr. Whitmore?”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed.

“You know who I am.”

“Yes.”

“Is my wife there?”

A pause.

“I cannot discuss a resident’s status without authorization.”

“My company has been paying you for twenty-three months.”

Another pause.

Alexander looked at his mother.

“Who authorized her admission?”

The man answered carefully.

“Your mother was listed as family representative.”

Ethan looked at his grandmother.

Mrs. Whitmore closed her eyes.

Alexander’s voice sharpened.

“Was Evelyn admitted voluntarily?”

Silence.

“Answer me.”

“I would need to review the file.”

“That means no.”

Mrs. Whitmore moved toward the phone.

Alexander stepped away.

The man said:

“Mr. Whitmore, please do not make assumptions.”

“Then give me one reason not to.”

No answer.

Alexander hung up.

He looked at Elena.

“Get Ethan’s coat.”

Mrs. Whitmore stared at him.

“You are not taking that child there.”

Alexander turned.

“I am taking my son nowhere near you.”

Her face changed.

“Alexander.”

He walked to the door.

She grabbed his arm.

“You think Evelyn will thank you?”

He stopped.

Slowly.

“What does that mean?”

Mrs. Whitmore released him.

“She blamed you.”

Alexander went still.

“For what?”

“For believing me.”

The words landed softly.

That made them worse.

Mrs. Whitmore looked toward Ethan.

“She begged you to listen before she left.”

Alexander’s face emptied.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I never spoke to her.”

“You did.”

He stared.

Then Elena remembered something.

The old answering machine in Alexander’s private study.

The one nobody used anymore.

It had been replaced months after Evelyn disappeared.

“Sir,” Elena said.

He looked at her.

“Mrs. Whitmore had access to your office then, didn’t she?”

His eyes shifted toward his mother.

Mrs. Whitmore said nothing.

Alexander’s breathing changed.

“What did Evelyn send me?”

His mother looked away.

“What did she send?”

“A message.”

“What message?”

Mrs. Whitmore’s voice became very quiet.

“She said she was being taken somewhere.”

Ethan started crying.

Alexander did not move.

“You heard it?”

“Yes.”

“And deleted it?”

Mrs. Whitmore said nothing.

Alexander looked almost calm.

That frightened Elena more than shouting would have.

He walked to the antique desk.

Opened the bottom drawer.

And removed an old digital voice recorder.

Elena recognized it.

Alexander used to record business dictation.

He pressed a button.

Nothing.

Then another.

A red light appeared.

Mrs. Whitmore’s face changed.

Alexander looked at her.

“My office system backed up calls to this recorder.”

He began scrolling through the archived files.

Two years.

Hundreds of recordings.

Then he found the date Evelyn disappeared.

Three files.

The first was empty.

The second contained static.

The third began with a woman breathing hard.

Alexander froze.

Then Evelyn’s voice filled the library.

“Alex, if you hear this, do not believe your mother.”

Ethan covered his mouth.

Alexander stopped breathing.

The recording continued.

“They’re taking me somewhere called Briar Glen.”

A sound in the background.

A door.

Evelyn speaking faster.

“I did not leave you.”

Mrs. Whitmore stepped backward.

Alexander’s eyes filled.

Then came Evelyn’s final words.

“And please tell Ethan I would never leave him.”

The recording ended.

Nobody moved.

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Alexander looked at his mother.

And for the first time, Mrs. Whitmore looked afraid of her son.