Why the fuck didn’t I watch what was happening with the baby? Why didn’t I send my men to follow the nurses and doctors that took the baby away to ‘work’ on her? How was Bobbi taken out of the hospital without any other staff noticing?
And the funeral service we used to prepare the body and lay Bobbi to rest in the sealed casket? What the fuck happened there?
There’s so much more at play here that we don’t even fucking understand, but I’ll get to the bottom of it, if it’s the last fucking thing I do.
My hand falls to the small of Abbey’s back as I try to pull back on my building anger, and her helmeted head turns up until her eyes meet mine.
“We can wait here if you like?” I tell her, and she shakes her head.
“No. I need to do this.”
I wanna argue that she doesn’t, but I hold my tongue, pushing back my protective nature, knowing she needs to be the one to decide.
Smitty, JD and Vender quickly move in front, their guns raised at the door as we approach.
“Gun, Angel,” I remind her, and she stiffens like she didn’t realise she had it pointed to the floor at her feet.
“Shit,” she mutters, lifting her arm and aiming ahead.
Standing outside the room Abbey thought she’d said goodbye to her daughter in, JD peers over his shoulder checking that we are all ready, and then on his nod, Vender kicks the door open. It bangs back against the wall as he leaps in, followed by JD and Smitty.
We only make it in a few steps when Vender and JD lower their guns, their perplexed expressions darting to us.
“No one’s here,” Vender mutters, his eyes darting to the trail of blood, which stops in front of the wall of metal doors.
The mortuary fridge.
I glance at Abbey again to find her shoulders drooping, her eyes hyper-fixated on the fridge. Hyper-fixated on a certain door.
The door that was opened to reveal a baby. The baby she was told was hers.
“Angel?”
Her tear-filled eyes dart up to mine. “That poor little baby. Who did she belong to?”
“I don’t know, but she wasn’t your Bobbi,” I remind her, and Abbey shakes her head.
“Apparently not.”
Pulling my wife to my side, I give her a squeeze, hating that she has to deal with such a betrayal.
It’s then that I see it. Blood oozing from one of the closed silver doors.
“How fresh is that?” I ask, gesturing my gun to the doors, and JD hurries over to examine the blood.
Bending, he takes a look before shooting wide eyes our way.
“It’s fresh.”
Everyone’s guns are raised and ready again in an instant.
“Let’s open it up.” Smitty strides over, not the least bit fazed with being in the morgue, gripping the silver handle and tugging the door open.
It swings wide, and he reaches in, pulling on the drawer, which makes a scraping sound as it slides out, and there, on the steel table, is Dr Madden. Her throat cut, her eyes wide yet completely black.
“Well, fuck,” JD mutters. “I guess we’re not getting any answers from the doc then.”
Abbey’s shoulders drop as she stares at the woman who had answers for her.
