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I didn’t even know what I was looking for. What I hoped to find.
Until I did.
I’d flipped through the entire stack until I made it to the last page. It was a record of Nolan’s very first visit. A well-check of a six-month-old baby boy.
17 lbs. 2 oz, 27.1 inches.
Blue eyes.
Blond hair.
Blond hair.
It felt as if I got socked in the gut.
But what nearly dropped me to my knees was the symbol that had been drawn in the corner.
A haphazard shape clearly drawn by an amateur’s hand—Dr. Reynolds’ hand.
But there was no mistaking it.
The stacked Ss with the eye in the middle.
The same as River and all his friends had tattooed on the back of their hands.
Oh God. Oh God.
Sweat slicked on my flesh and tears burned at the backs of my eyes.
“Charleigh? What are you doing?”
A gasp ripped out of me, and I whirled around to find Dr. Reynolds standing in the doorway. His hand was on the knob and his face was written in concern. Apprehension curled through his expression when he saw that I was holding a patient file.
“Oh. Nothing. I just was looking for the next patient’s chart, and I accidentally grabbed the wrong one.” I flipped it closed and turned, trying to get my hands to cooperate as I frantically stuffed it back into its place. I hurried to grab Francisca Thomas’.
Slamming shut the cabinet drawer, I waved the folder high as I whipped around. “Here we are.”
A frown pinched tight across his weathered brow. “Are you okay?”
No. I was not okay.I was not okay.
I was crumbling.
Shattering.
I forced a smile. “Of course.”
Warily, he nodded. “All right then. I need you to call the lab and ask about the status of Mr. Murray’s bloodwork. We should have received it before his follow-up today.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
He hesitated again before he mumbled, “Thank you,” and ducked out. I waited until his footsteps retreated down the hall before I scrambled out of the office and hurried to the breakroom. Every moleculein my body shook as I grabbed my purse. I attempted to keep my cool as I crossed the lobby.
But the second I pushed open the front door, I broke into a sprint.
Running to where I’d parked Raven’s car, I frantically clicked the locks over and over as I approached, and I fumbled to yank open the door handle. My pulse thundered as I jumped into the car and pushed the button to start it.
I put the car in reverse and whipped out of the parking spot, and my breaths came in shallow, jagged pants as I shifted it into gear and rammed on the gas.
