Chapter 6 - The Rear Exit"Where are you right now?" Claire asked, ducking into an alcove on the clinic's second-floor landing.
"I’m in the basement storage unit behind the laundromat on 84th," Sarah said. Her voice broke slightly on the word laundromat. "A man named Ryan called me three days ago. He said if I didn't sign the transfer deeds for my uncle's estate, he would report me to the State Nursing Board for narcotic discrepancies."
Claire closed her eyes. The cold rage that settled behind her ribs felt heavy and dull, like an iron weight. "Did you take anything?"
"No! My uncle had end-stage pancreatic cancer. I picked up his hospice prescriptions from the pharmacy with valid orders. They forged the sign-out sheets at the clinic. They’re setting me up, Mrs. Montgomery."
"Stay where you are," Claire said. "Don't open the door for anyone unless they know the code."
"What code?"
Claire looked down at her own hand—the thin pale line on her ring finger where she’d worn Ryan’s platinum band for three years. "Tell them 'Delaware 1998'."
She hung up, pushed open the heavy emergency exit door, and took the concrete stairs down to the alley.
When she hit the street, her phone buzzed again. It wasn't the burner this time. It was the personal phone she had kept turned off in her bag. She had powered it on for three seconds to pull Sarah's clinic extension.
A voicemail notification popped up.
She pressed play.
May you like
Ryan’s voice filled the speaker, low and ragged, with the sound of wind whistling behind him.
"Claire, stop running around the city. Arthur went to the judge's house in Westchester. He has the temporary guardianship order for the baby based on your medical history. If you don't show up at the 57th Street office by noon, the police will pick you up at your next ultrasound. You can't win this, Claire. Just come home."
