Chapter 5: Doubt and Deception

Then why were there a prenatal check-up slip and a discharge record in Natalie’s suitcase? Wasn’t she on a business trip for the past two weeks?

My heart hammered in my chest. I remembered all those early morning calls, her tired voice from the hotel, the generic background noise. My mind started to race—did I ever hear anything suspicious? Did she ever slip up?

I didn’t have time to think. With trembling hands, I called Natalie.

My fingers fumbled over the phone, the touchscreen slippery. The call rang and rang, my pulse pounding in my ears. The suitcase sat open at my feet, those documents peeking out like damning secrets.

As usual, she didn’t answer. Instead, after the call was cut off, she sent me a quick text: “What’s up?”

Seeing that response—so brisk, so typically her—made me flinch. It grounded me, yanking me out of my panic. She always texted like that, never letting on to more emotion than necessary.

It was a jolt back to reality. My hands stopped shaking. If she was already suspicious, I had to play it cool—couldn’t let her know what I’d found. The old sense of self-preservation kicked in, sharpening my focus.