AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Madeleine? W-what are you doing here?" he asked.
Kyla's mom yelled. “You killed my daughter, you monster!”
John’s eyes shot wide open, and he looked around the room confusedly. His eyes met Kyla's, and she could tell he had no idea what was happening. “I don’t understand,” he said weakly. “I don’t remember anything.”
His reaction took Kyla aback. She had expected him to be defensive or even hostile; it was strange to her. But her mother didn't step down. His not admitting to having done it only fueled her anger toward him.
“How can you not remember? You murdered her, you bastard!”
John Baker's eyes widened in shock. "I don't remember that," he protested weakly. "I don't remember anything."
Kyla's mom refused to back down. She was on a roll now. "Don't lie to me," she hissed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. She was going to leave you, and you stabbed her. They found blood in your house, the one you shared with Rachel, where you built a family. She gave you children. You didn't deserve her; you never did. You killed her."
“I’m sorry,” John said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember anything before I was shot. The police told me stuff, but I swear, I don't remember anything."
"Liar," she hissed.
Kyla walked closer and grabbed her mother's shoulder. "Maybe we should…."
Her mom pulled out of her grip. "No, we shouldn't. I'm not done with him yet. I want the children. Where have you hidden them?"
"I swear,” John said, almost in tears. "I don't recall anything. I don't know what you're talking about. What children? Rachel and I just got married!"
The tension in the room was palpable as Kyla's mom stood there, her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. Kyla watched, her heart heavy with grief and anger. She wondered if John was telling the truth or if he was just pretending not to remember.
"You sick bastard,” her mother spat. "Don't you lie to me."
Then she lunged at him. Seeing this, Kyla sprang forward to grab her mother. She had her hands wrapped around his throat and was pressing hard. Kyla tried to pull her away from him, but she was freakishly strong for such a small woman.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a doctor rushed in, followed closely by the police officer who had been guarding the door. The doctor took one look at Kyla's mom, then yelled:
"What’s going on in here? You need to leave at once," he said sternly, eyeing Kyla and her mother suspiciously.
The officer came up behind him and gave them a look to make them understand the severity of the situation.
Kyla's mom turned to the doctor, her face red with anger, her eyes still blazing. “This is not over,” she yelled as they left the room. "This is far from over," she repeated before storming down the hallway with Kyla in tow.
Kyla followed her mother out of the hospital, feeling a strange mix of emotions. She was angry at John for what she believed he had done to her sister, but she was also confused by his apparent lack of memory. She had so many questions and didn't know where to start looking for answers.
As they made their way to their car and got in, Kyla's mom continued to fume. "He's lying," she muttered. "I know he is. We need to find out the truth and make him pay for what he did. I know exactly how we're going to do it."
Chapter47
Isat at the computer in the dimly lit room of the police station, my eyes fixed on the screen in front of me. The small glowing monitor illuminated my face as I scrolled through the footage. Matt stood beside me, his arms folded across his chest as we watched the surveillance footage from the hospital lobby.
We had been at the police station for hours now, sifting through endless hours of surveillance footage from the hospital. The sound of the computer fan whirred in the silence, the only noise in the room. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy as the surveillance tapes cycled through, searching for that one person we thought held the answers.
Suddenly, my eyes caught something in the footage. A woman had just walked up to the front desk in the hospital lobby and talked to the lady behind the counter. At first, we couldn't hear what they were saying, but as she snapped tersely, talking soon became yelling, so it could be heard loud and clear on the footage.
"I need to see him; I need to see Mr. Baker. Let me through—it's an emergency!"
The lady behind the desk crossed her arms and replied stoically, "I'm sorry, ma'am, no visitors are allowed. He is in police custody."
The woman then began to plead with the receptionist, her voice urgent and desperate as she waved her hands in frustration. Her eyes darted around the room furtively. But she wasn't let through. Then, a security guard approached her, and she calmed down. She was told to leave.
We watched as the woman finished her conversation and walked away. I studied the footage closely just as she turned to look back at the desk with a look of sorrowful desperation. Just before she disappeared from view, we paused the footage and zoomed in on her face.
"There," I said, pointing to the frozen image of her face. "That's her. That's the woman Dr. Calhoun talked about."
