Chapter 2 - The Name He Was Never Supposed to Remember
Maya stood frozen beside the hospital bed.
For several seconds, the room seemed to narrow around the stranger’s words.
Someone is trying to kill your family.
Outside, nurses continued moving through the hallway. A patient laughed somewhere near the elevators. A monitor beeped rhythmically from another room.
Normal sounds.
Ordinary sounds.
But Maya could no longer hear them properly.
“Why would anyone want to kill my family?”
The stranger shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“You just said someone is trying to.”
“I remember seeing your house.”
Maya stared at him.
“My house?”
“Not clearly.”
He pressed two fingers against his temple.
“Streetlights. A blue mailbox. A broken porch railing.”
Maya’s face went pale.
Their mailbox was blue.
Their porch railing had been broken since last winter.
“That’s my house.”
His breathing became unsteady.
“I think I was there.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Before the accident?”
“I don’t know.”
Detective Ortiz entered the room.
“What did you remember?”
The man looked at him suspiciously.
“Who are you?”
“Detective Ortiz, Richmond Police Department.”
The stranger studied him for a long moment.
“You were there.”
“At the accident?”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“In the rain.”
Ortiz glanced at Maya.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
The stranger shut his eyes.
“I remember a woman screaming.”
Maya’s heart raced.
“Who?”
“Red hair.”
Ortiz immediately grabbed a notepad.
“Anything else?”
“A ring.”
“What kind?”
“Big.”
“Stone?”
“Blue.”
Maya knew before Ortiz did.
Her mother had a blue sapphire ring.
It had belonged to her father.
Maya’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“My mother.”
The stranger opened his eyes.
“Yes.”
He sounded certain.
“I saw your mother.”
Maya stepped backward.
But then the door opened again.
A hospital administrator entered carrying a clipboard.
“Mr. Hale?”
The stranger looked at him.
The administrator froze.
“I’m sorry. I thought…”
“You called him Hale?” Maya asked.
The administrator looked confused.
“The temporary patient record is under John Hale.”
“That was never confirmed.”
“I know. It was a placeholder.”
Maya looked at the patient.
“You’re John Hale now?”
He gave a weak smile.
“Apparently I have excellent taste in fake names.”
The joke died quickly.
Because the name John Hale had appeared in another place before.
Detective Ortiz remembered it.
“Wait.”
He opened his notebook and scrolled through his phone.
“John Hale.”
He turned the screen toward Maya.
There was an unsolved case from four years earlier.
A missing financial auditor.
John Hale.
Reported missing after accusing a private investment company of manipulating charitable funds.
No body.
No confirmed death.
And one of the companies mentioned in the investigation was Bennett Holdings.
Maya felt sick.
“My father’s company?”
Ortiz nodded.
“Your father founded Bennett Holdings.”
“Before he died.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is this connected?”
The stranger looked at the screen.
Something flickered across his face.
“I know that man.”
“You know John Hale?”
“No.”
He pointed to a photograph attached to the report.
“That man.”
The photograph showed a senior executive.
Victor Bennett.
Maya’s uncle.
Daniel Bennett’s younger brother.
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“You know my uncle?”
The stranger stared at the photo.
Then he whispered:
“He was driving the car.”
“What car?”
“Not mine.”
Silence.
“What do you mean?”
He looked at Maya.
“The crash wasn't an accident.”
Detective Ortiz closed the door.
“Tell me everything you remember.”
The stranger struggled to sit up.
Maya steadied him.
“I was driving.”
“On Route 18?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was carrying something.”
“What?”
“A folder.”
“What was inside?”
“Evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
He looked at Maya.
“Money.”
That night, the police increased security around St. Catherine’s.
Maya called her mother.
Lorraine answered on the second ring.
“Where are you?”
“At work.”
“You sound frightened.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Maya closed her eyes.
“Mama, lock the doors.”
“What?”
“Please.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
A pause.
“Maya…”
“Do it.”
“I’m at the house.”
“Good.”
“Are you coming home?”
“Soon.”
“Why are you asking me to lock the doors?”
Maya hesitated.
“Did Dad ever tell you anything about Bennett Holdings?”
Silence.
Longer this time.
Then Lorraine said:
“No.”
It was too fast.
Maya knew her mother.
She heard the lie.
“Mom.”
“I have to go.”
“Wait.”
The line disconnected.
Maya called again.
No answer.
She called ten minutes later.
Still nothing.
She called Toby.
Straight to voicemail.
A cold sensation spread through her chest.
She immediately grabbed her coat.
Her supervisor tried to stop her.
“You can’t just leave your shift.”
“My family is in danger.”
“Do you have proof?”
Maya looked toward Trauma Bay Nine.
The stranger was staring back at her.
“Yes.”
She left.
When she reached the apartment, the front door was open.
Maya stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
Every instinct told her not to enter.
She called 911.
Then she heard Toby crying.
She ran inside.
The living room was overturned.
A lamp lay smashed.
The kitchen cabinet doors were open.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
“Toby?”
Her brother appeared from the hallway.
His face was wet with tears.
“Maya.”
“Where’s Mom?”
“She left with a man.”
“What man?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who?”
“He said he was Dad’s old friend.”
Maya grabbed his shoulders.
“Describe him.”
“Tall.”
“How tall?”
“Six-one, maybe.”
“Hair?”
“Dark.”
“Anything else?”
Toby swallowed.
“He had the same watch as you.”
Maya’s blood turned cold.
“What?”
“He showed Mom something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“Of Dad.”
Toby reached into his pocket.
“I took this when he wasn’t looking.”
He handed Maya a folded photograph.
It showed a young Daniel Bennett standing outside an office building.
Beside him was Victor.
And beside Victor was the stranger from Trauma Bay Nine.
Maya’s hands trembled.
There was a date printed on the bottom.
October 2019.
Her father had supposedly been dead since 2015.
She looked at Toby.
“What else did he say?”
Toby shook his head.
“Mom told me to hide.”
Then a car engine started outside.
Maya turned.
Headlights swept across the windows.
“Get down.”
They dropped behind the sofa.
A dark SUV stopped across the street.
Two men exited.
Maya held Toby close.
The front door creaked.
Someone had entered the apartment.
Footsteps crossed the hallway.
A man's voice whispered:
“Find the blue folder.”
Maya’s heart pounded.
There was no blue folder.
Or at least, she did not know of one.
The men searched the apartment.
Then one of them said:
“She must have taken it.”
“Who?”
“The nurse.”
Maya's eyes widened.
They knew about her.
Suddenly Toby's phone vibrated.
A message appeared on the screen.
Unknown number:
RUN.
Maya looked toward the window.
The SUV's headlights turned off.
The apartment went dark.
Then a sound came from behind them.
The kitchen window shattered.
Maya grabbed Toby's hand.
They ran.
They reached the back exit and sprinted into the alley.
Maya did not stop until they reached a convenience store two blocks away.
She called Detective Ortiz.
Then she called the hospital.
The stranger answered from the patient room.
“Maya?”
“It was you.”
“What?”
“You sent the message.”
“I don't have a phone.”
“Then how did you know?”
Silence.
He breathed out slowly.
“Because I remember who I am.”
Maya gripped the phone.
“Who?”
“My name is Ethan Cross.”
A strange calm settled over her.
“Ethan Cross.”
“Yes.”
“Who are you?”
He hesitated.
May you like
Then said:
“The man your father hired to protect you.”
