Chapter 3 - THE NAME ON THE FORM
Claire woke just after midnight.
Gabriel stood outside her room while Nina stayed with Léa.
He had imagined seeing Claire again a hundred different ways over the years.
Angry. Happy. Married to someone else.
Never with wires attached to her chest.
Her eyes opened when he stepped inside.
For a moment, she only stared.
Then she tried to sit up.
“Where’s Léa?”
“She’s safe.”
“Where?”
“Right outside. With a hospital social worker.”
Claire’s face changed.
“No. Gabriel, don’t let them call anyone.”
He pulled the chair closer.
“Who?”
She reached for his wrist.
“Your mother.”
There it was again.
He looked at her hand. No wedding ring. A thin scar crossed one knuckle.
“Why would they call my mother?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Because she always knows which number to give them.”
He leaned forward.
“Claire, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”
Her eyes filled, but she blinked the tears away.
“I tried to reach you.”
“For five years?”
“Yes.”
“You left me a letter.”
“I didn’t.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“It was in your handwriting.”
“What did it say?”
“That you’d met someone. That you didn’t want a life built around my family.”
Claire let go of his wrist.
“I never wrote that.”
He stood, then stopped himself. Anger had nowhere useful to go.
“Your apartment was empty.”
“My landlord said your mother had paid to end the lease.”
“I went to your work.”
“I was fired.”
“Claire—”
“I found out I was pregnant two days before your mother came to see me.”
The monitor kept beeping.
Gabriel looked toward the door.
Léa sat on Nina’s lap, turning the photograph over in her hands.
“How old is she?”
“Four. Five next month.”
He did the math even though he didn’t need to.
“Is she mine?”
Claire’s mouth trembled.
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than anything he had expected.
He sat because his knees no longer felt trustworthy.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I had.”
She pointed toward her purse on the windowsill.
“There’s a folder inside.”
He opened it.
A birth certificate. Copies of returned letters. A payment notice from a clinic.
Then a notarized statement.
His full name appeared beneath a paragraph refusing contact and denying any responsibility for Claire’s pregnancy.
At the bottom was his signature.
Perfectly formed.
Completely false.
Gabriel looked up.
Claire was watching his face.
“You didn’t sign it,” she whispered.
“No.”
She covered her mouth.
For five years, she had believed he knew.
For five years, he had believed she left.
Outside the room, Léa laughed at something Nina said.
May you like
Gabriel looked back at the forged signature.
Someone had stolen more than time.
