Chapter 6 - Victor Came to the Hospital
Dad’s security team moved us before noon.
Not because we believed Victor could simply walk through the gates.
Because somebody had told him where I was.
That was the problem.
Victor had spent years learning how to enter places without touching the door.
We relocated to a secure apartment near the medical district.
Two officers were stationed nearby.
Detective Brooks warned me not to answer unknown calls.
Dad replaced my phone.
I changed every password.
Still, I felt watched.
That afternoon, my obstetrician called and asked me to come in because I was experiencing cramping.
The baby remained stable, but stress had raised my blood pressure.
“You need rest,” Dr. Patel told me.
I almost laughed.
Rest had become a luxury.
A nurse dimmed the lights.
Dad stepped downstairs to speak with Detective Brooks.
For perhaps ten minutes, I was alone.
Then someone knocked.
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Victor walked in carrying white roses.
My entire body went cold.
He looked perfect.
Dark suit.
Fresh haircut.
No handcuffs.
No anger.
He wore the face I had fallen in love with.
“Maya.”
I reached for the call button.
“Don’t.”
He closed the door.
“How are you here?”
“My lawyer corrected a misunderstanding.”
“Get out.”
He placed the roses on a table.
“I needed to see you.”
“You’re not allowed near me.”
“This is a public hospital.”
“Victor.”
He sat in the chair beside the bed.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at him.
He had never said those words after hurting me.
Not once.
“I lost control.”
“You beat me with a cane.”
“My father was yelling. My mother was upset. You were being difficult.”
I almost smiled.
Even his apology required my guilt.
“You nearly killed our daughter.”
Something flashed behind his eyes.
Then disappeared.
“I would never hurt my child.”
“Your child?”
He leaned closer.
“Our child.”
I thought of Carla.
Daniel.
“How many children do you have, Victor?”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“What are you talking about?”
“Daniel.”
The room became silent.
Victor’s mask slipped.
Not completely.
Enough.
“Carla is lying.”
“I didn’t say Carla told me.”
He realized his mistake.
For the first time, I enjoyed watching him understand he no longer controlled the information.
He sat back.
“She’s unstable.”
“So am I, apparently.”
“Maya.”
“Every woman who learns what you are becomes unstable?”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t understand what’s happening.”
“No. I understand it now.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he changed tactics.
“Your father is manipulating you.”
There it was.
The old weapon.
“He always hated me.”
“He knew about Carla before we married.”
Victor blinked.
“And he knew about your family asking questions about my trust.”
Silence.
I continued.
“He knows someone forged my signature.”
Victor stood.
“You should be very careful.”
Not angry.
Not loud.
That made the threat clearer.
“Is that why you came?”
“I came because I love you.”
“No.”
“You’re my wife.”
“Not for long.”
He looked at my stomach.
Something inside me tightened.
Then Victor smiled.
“You think divorce means I disappear?”
I didn’t answer.
“That baby is mine.”
A chill moved through me.
“If you keep her from me, I will drag you through court until she’s eighteen.”
I reached for the call button again.
Victor grabbed my wrist.
For a split second, the old fear returned so violently that I couldn’t breathe.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“Take your hand off her.”
Victor released me.
Dad stood there.
Behind him were two hospital security officers and Detective Brooks.
Victor smiled.
“This is becoming ridiculous.”
Brooks held up a document.
“Victor Mendoza, you are in violation of an emergency protective order.”
His attorney had apparently argued that the first order was unclear.
The judge had signed a stronger one less than an hour earlier.
Victor’s confidence faltered.
“You can’t arrest me for visiting my pregnant wife.”
Brooks stepped forward.
“I can arrest you for contacting a protected person after being formally served.”
“I wasn’t served.”
A hospital security officer spoke.
“You were.”
Victor turned.
The officer pointed toward the flowers.
“Those roses were handed to you by a process server downstairs.”
Victor looked at the bouquet.
For the first time, I almost laughed.
He had carried proof of his own service into my room.
Brooks told him to turn around.
Victor’s eyes stayed on me while she handcuffed him.
“This isn’t over.”
I looked directly back.
“For you, it’s just starting.”
They led him away.
Dad closed the door.
I began shaking.
Not because Victor had frightened me.
Because I had spoken back.
And nothing happened.
The ceiling didn’t collapse.
No one hit me.
The world kept moving.
That night, Carla called again.
This time Detective Brooks was present.
Carla agreed to speak on speakerphone as long as we did not trace her location.
“I stayed with Victor for four years,” she said.
Her voice was tired.
“He wasn’t violent at first.”
I knew that sentence.
“He was charming,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“Protective.”
“Yes.”
“Until protection became control.”
Carla began crying.
“He broke my jaw when Daniel was eight months old.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“Why did you withdraw the restraining order?” Brooks asked.
“Because Raul came to my mother’s house.”
“What did he say?”
“That if I testified, they would prove I was an unfit mother and take Daniel.”
“Did you believe him?”
“He showed me documents.”
“What documents?”
“Psychiatric records.”
“Were they real?”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“But I didn’t know that then.”
Carla disappeared with Daniel two weeks later.
Nora had secretly helped her.
That explained the videos.
Nora had not only been filming for entertainment.
At some point, she began saving evidence.
“Why?” I asked.
Carla hesitated.
“Because Nora knows what her family does.”
“What does that mean?”
“She knows about the women.”
I looked at Detective Brooks.
“What women?”
Carla answered.
“Women Victor dated before you.”
My skin went cold.
“How many?”
“At least three.”
“What happened to them?”
“One left the state.”
“One took money and signed an agreement.”
“And the third?”
Silence.
“Carla?”
Her next words barely reached us.
“No one has seen her in six years.”
Dad stood.
“What was her name?”
Carla whispered it.
“Samantha Reed.”
Detective Brooks began typing immediately.
I expected that to be the worst thing Carla told us.
It wasn’t.
Before ending the call, she said:
“Maya, you need to ask Nora about the basement.”
“What basement?”
“Raul’s warehouse.”
I remembered the photograph Dad had shown me.
Victor and Raul outside a warehouse at midnight.
“What’s in it?”
Carla started crying again.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you afraid of it?”
“Because one night, six years ago, Nora called me from there.”
“What did she say?”
May you like
Carla’s answer turned my blood cold.
“She said Samantha was screaming.”
