Chapter 3: Room B-12
Maya pulled her hand away.
Mrs. Collins didn't try to stop her.
For several seconds, the woman simply stared at the phone, her face drained of color beneath the warm hallway lights.
Then she closed the auditorium doors.
“Vanessa,” she said quietly, “take Maya to the lobby.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I'm not leaving her.””
“I'm not asking you to leave her alone. I'm asking you to move her somewhere public.””
Maya stepped backward.
“Why does Mom say not to trust you?””
Mrs. Collins lowered herself to Maya's eye level.
“Because someone is trying to frighten you.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Then why did you look scared when you read the message?””
Mrs. Collins hesitated.
That hesitation told Maya more than any answer could have.
“Have you seen Room B-12 before?”” Maya asked.
Mrs. Collins looked toward the narrow corridor.
“It's not supposed to be accessible to guests.””
“What is it?””
“A storage room.””
“Then why does Mom's phone say authorized access only?””
Vanessa crouched beside Maya.
“Your mother worked in this building last year,” she said.
“She helped organize a community fundraiser. She may know things about the rooms that the rest of us don't.””
Maya stared at her aunt.
“You said you didn't know where she was.””
“I didn't.””
“You said the map was nothing.””
“I was wrong.””
“You said you were protecting me.””
Vanessa's eyes filled again.
“I am trying to protect you.””
“From Dad?””
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
“From what he has become.””
The words seemed to cost her something.
Maya looked down at the trophy table through the open doorway. She could still see the gold-and-red award resting where she had left it.
Her mother had promised to photograph her holding it.
Maya imagined standing in their kitchen later that night, wearing the blue dress while her mother took pictures from every possible angle. She imagined her mother's laughter when Maya complained that the trophy was too heavy.
The memory hurt so much that she nearly cried.
Instead, she lifted the phone.
“I'm going to find her.””
Mrs. Collins stood.
“No, sweetheart. You're going to stay with us while we get help.””
“What if she doesn't have time?””
Nobody answered.
Maya opened the map again.
A small arrow appeared at the edge of the screen, pointing toward the service corridor.
The blue dot pulsed.
Room B-12.
Maya started walking.
Vanessa followed immediately.
Mrs. Collins called after them, but neither stopped.
The corridor narrowed as they moved away from the reception area. The bright decorations disappeared. The walls became bare, painted a dull gray, with exposed pipes running along the ceiling.
A fluorescent light buzzed overhead.
At the end stood a heavy door marked B-12.
There was no handle on the outside.
Only a black keypad and a small circular camera.
Maya approached.
The phone vibrated.
*DEVICE NEARBY.*
A second line appeared.
*ENTER THE FOUR-DIGIT CODE.*
Vanessa stared at the screen.
“Oh, no.””
“What?”” Maya asked.
Vanessa looked at the keypad.
“Your mother told me about this room.””
“What is it?””
“Before she stopped working with your father, she said she had found something here.””
“What did she find?””
Vanessa glanced at Mrs. Collins, who had finally caught up with them.
“Records,” she whispered.
“Documents. Things your father didn't want anyone to see.””
Mrs. Collins folded her arms.
“What kind of documents?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I never saw them.””
“But you knew this room existed.””
“Yes.””
“And you never reported it?””
Vanessa looked ashamed.
“I thought it was a private business matter.””
Mrs. Collins's voice sharpened.
“A woman is missing, a child has been warned not to go home, and you still think this is a private business matter?””
Vanessa lowered her head.
“No. Not anymore.””
Maya looked at the keypad.
“What code did Mom use?””
Vanessa stared at the numbers.
“I don't know.””
Maya thought about the little things her mother did when she was worried. She thought about the calendar on their refrigerator, where her mother wrote important dates in blue ink. She thought about the birthday cake they'd made together last month, the candles arranged in a crooked line.
Then she remembered something.
Her mother had a habit of saying the same four numbers whenever she needed to remind herself of something important.
Not her birthday.
Not Maya's birthday.
A number she called their lucky number.
Maya typed it into the keypad.
The light flashed red.
*ACCESS DENIED.*
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“Maya, we should leave.””
Maya shook her head.
She tried again.
The same four numbers, reversed.
Red.
*ACCESS DENIED.*
Mrs. Collins stepped closer.
“Sweetheart, perhaps the police should handle this.””
Maya looked at the phone.
A message had appeared beneath the map.
*THE ANSWER IS THE DAY YOU BECAME A FAMILY.*
Maya frowned.
“The day we became a family?””
Vanessa's eyes widened.
“Maya, don't.””
But Maya was already typing.
The month and day of her adoption.
The day her mother had brought her home from the hospital after the adoption papers were finalized. The day they'd eaten pancakes for dinner because her mother had been too excited to cook anything else.
The keypad flashed green.
A heavy lock clicked inside the door.
Nobody spoke.
Maya pushed the door.
It opened three inches.
Cold air drifted into the hallway.
Inside, a single desk lamp illuminated a small room containing a metal filing cabinet, a desk, two chairs, and a wall covered with photographs.
Maya stepped through the doorway.
Her mother's photograph was pinned to the wall.
Beside it was a photograph of Marcus.
And beside his photograph was a third image.
A young woman holding a newborn baby.
Maya moved closer.
The young woman had her mother's eyes.
But the baby wasn't Maya.
It was another little girl.
A handwritten note had been taped beneath the picture.
*SUBJECT TWO: UNACCOUNTED FOR.*
Maya's mouth went dry.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa came into the room behind her.
“Oh, God.””
Mrs. Collins remained by the doorway, holding her phone.
Maya looked at the filing cabinet.
One drawer was slightly open.
Inside were folders arranged by year, each marked with a name and a date.
Some names had red lines through them.
Others had handwritten notes.
Maya recognized one name immediately.
Her mother's.
The folder was thicker than the others, with a strip of yellow tape across the front.
*ELENA BENNETT — FINAL REVIEW.*
Maya pulled it out.
Inside lay printed emails, bank statements, photographs, and a copy of the travel authorization Marcus had tried to hide earlier.
But this version had a second page.
A line at the bottom caught Maya's attention.
*MINOR: MAYA BENNETT. TRANSFER DATE: OCTOBER 30.*
Tomorrow.
Her stomach dropped.
“Transfer?”” she whispered.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Mrs. Collins stepped inside and took the papers from Maya's trembling hands.
“I'm calling the police now.””
She turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
A small monitor on the desk had flickered to life.
A grainy video feed showed a concrete room with a metal chair and a narrow window near the ceiling.
A woman sat on the chair, her hands resting in her lap.
Shoulder-length dark hair.
A familiar silver necklace.
Maya ran to the monitor.
“Mom!””
The woman on the screen lifted her head.
It was Elena.
Her face was bruised, and her blouse was torn at the sleeve, but she was alive.
She leaned toward the camera.
“Maya, baby, can you hear me?””
Maya pressed both hands against the monitor.
“Mom! I'm here! I'm coming to get you!””
Elena shook her head frantically.
“No. Don't come here. Listen to me.””
Maya swallowed a sob.
“Where are you?””
Elena looked toward something outside the camera's view.
Then she whispered, “Your father isn't the person who arranged this.””
Maya went still.
Behind her, Vanessa backed away from the monitor.
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“Baby, the person who arranged everything is someone you have known your entire life.””
Maya turned toward Vanessa.
Her aunt stood motionless, her champagne dress catching the cold light from the monitor.
Then the room's speakers crackled.
A man's voice filled the room.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Thank you for opening the door, Maya.””
Marcus.
Maya spun toward the entrance.
The door slammed shut behind them.
A red light appeared above the keypad.
The lock engaged.
May you like
And on the monitor, Elena screamed one sentence before the screen went black.
“*DON'T LET VANESSA TOUCH THE FILE!*”
