Two Little Secrets From My Boss

Chapter 58

The call came at eleven forty-seven PM.

I know the exact time because I was staring at the clock when my phone rang, watching the minutes crawl past like they had every night since Lisa disappeared. Sleep had become impossible—my body hollowed out by fear and exhaustion, my mind refusing to quiet no matter how many hours I lay in the dark.

The detective's voice was calm, measured, the professional tone of someone trained to deliver news without revealing its nature.

"Mrs. Hale, we need you to come to Saint Michael's Hospital. We've found a child matching Lisa's description."

The words didn't register at first. They floated somewhere above my head, abstract sounds that refused to form meaning. I heard myself say "What?" but the voice sounded distant, disconnected from my body.

"A young girl was brought in approximately two hours ago. Dark hair, brown eyes, approximately five years old. She's asking for her mother."

"Is she—" My throat closed around the question I was terrified to ask. "Is she hurt?"

"She's being evaluated now. I can't give you more details over the phone, but I need you and Mr. Hale to come as quickly as possible."

"We're coming," I was already moving, my legs carrying me toward the bedroom where Xander had finally collapsed into fitful sleep an hour ago. "We're coming right now."

I don't remember hanging up, crossing the room or shaking Xander's shoulder or saying the words that made him bolt upright, his eyes wild with desperate hope.

"They found her?" His voice cracked on the question.

"A child matching her description, at Saint Michael's Hospital." I was pulling on clothes—whatever was closest, a sweater that might have been inside out, pants I didn't bother to zip properly.

Xander was already grabbing his coat before I finished speaking. He didn't ask questions, didn't demand details I didn't have. He just moved, his body operating on the same desperate autopilot that had taken over mine.

"Nina," I said suddenly, stopping mid-stride. "We can't leave Nina alone."

"I'll call Sarah. She can be here in fifteen minutes."

"We need to go now."

"I'll call her from the car, she has a key." Xander was already at the door, his phone pressed to his ear. "Sarah, I need you to come immediately. Yes, right now. The police found Lisa. We have to go."

Xander drove too fast through empty streets, running yellow lights and taking corners sharper than safety allowed. I sat in the passenger seat with my hands clenched in my lap, my nails digging crescents into my palms, my breath coming in shallow gasps I couldn't seem to control.

Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say that wouldn't shatter the fragile bubble of hope we were both holding onto. The detective had said "a child matching Lisa's description"—not "your daughter." The careful language echoed in my mind, a reminder that nothing was certain yet.

What if it wasn't her? What if we arrived at the hospital and found some other family's missing child, some other mother's relief while our nightmare continued?

What if it was her, but she was hurt? The detective had said she was being evaluated. What did that mean? Had Bianca harmed her? Had she been scared, alone, calling for us while we sat helpless in our empty apartment?

Every worst-case scenario flashed through my mind despite my desperate attempt to stay focused. Lisa crying in a dark room, wondering why Mommy and Daddy hadn't come to save her. Lisa's small body broken in ways I couldn't bear to imagine.

I forced the thoughts away, replacing them with a mantra I repeated silently, over and over: She's alive. She's asking for her mother, so she's alive.

"Five more minutes," Xander's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "We're almost there."

"I know."

"She's going to be okay," he said it like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. "We'll get her the best doctors, the best therapists, whatever she needs."

"I know."

"I should have told you about Bianca sooner," the words came out in a rush, guilt bleeding through. "She met with me and threatened… If I'd been honest with you from the start—"

"Not now," I couldn't process his confession, couldn't make space for anger or betrayal when every cell in my body was focused on one thing. "We can talk about that later. Right now I just need to see her."

"I'm sorry, Daphne, I'm so sorry."

I reached across the console and found his hand, squeezing once. "Later."

The hospital loomed ahead, its emergency entrance blazing with fluorescent light. Xander pulled into the first available spot and we were out of the car before the engine fully stopped, running toward the doors like our lives depended on it.

They did. Our lives, our sanity, our ability to ever feel whole again—all of it hung on what we would find inside those walls.

The emergency room was chaos—nurses rushing past, phones ringing, the low murmur of anxious families filling the waiting area. I pushed through without seeing any of it, my eyes scanning for someone in authority, someone who could tell me where my daughter was.

"Mrs. Hale?" A woman in scrubs approached, her expression carefully neutral. "I'm Dr. Patterson. The detective asked me to meet you."

"Where is she?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "Where's my daughter?"

"She's in pediatric observation, room 304. She's stable, Mrs. Hale. Dehydrated and frightened, but physically unharmed."

The relief hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled, and suddenly Xander's arm was around my waist, holding me upright.

"Physically unharmed," I repeated, clinging to the words. "She's okay?"

"She's been asking for you constantly. The police have already spoken with her briefly, but she's confused and scared." Dr. Patterson gestured toward the elevator. "I'll take you to her now."

The walk to the third floor felt like moving through water—every step taking too long, every second stretching into eternity. Xander held my hand so tightly I could feel his pulse hammering against my fingers, matching the frantic rhythm of my own heartbeat.

Room 304. The number swam before my eyes as we approached, my vision blurring with tears I'd been holding back for days.

"Mommy?" The small voice came from inside the room, and everything else fell away.

I pushed through the door, my eyes finding her immediately—my daughter, my Lisa, sitting up in the hospital bed with her dark hair tangled and her cheeks pale but her eyes bright and alive and looking right at me.

"Mommy!" She reached for me, her arms extended, her face crumpling with relief.

I crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into my arms, holding her so tightly I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. She was real, and she was alive.

"I'm here, baby," the words came out broken, shattered by sobs I couldn't control. "Mommy's here, and you're safe now. You're safe."

Lisa clung to me, her small fingers fisting in my sweater, her body shaking with tears that matched my own. Xander was beside us a moment later, his arms wrapping around us both, his face buried in Lisa's hair as he whispered her name over and over.

We stayed like that for a long time, tangled together in that hospital room, holding onto each other like we might never let go.

My daughter was home.