Chapter 6 - The Thing Ben RememberedBen couldn’t explain.
Not yet.
The breathing tube made speech impossible, and his neurological status was too fragile for anyone to remove it immediately.
But his panic was unmistakable.
“Sophie is safe,” I told him.
His eyes closed briefly.
Then opened.
“Mom has her.”
He squeezed my hand.
Hard.
“Do you want me to bring her here?”
His eyes widened.
He shook his head violently.
“No?”
Another shake.
Mark stepped closer.
“Ben, are you saying Sophie is in danger?”
One squeeze.
Yes.
My blood went cold.
“From Delaney?”
No response.
“Cole?”
Ben blinked once.
Mark had established one blink for yes.
“Cole?”
Blink.
I grabbed my phone and called my mother.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Again.
Voicemail.
“Why isn’t she answering?”
“Try the house,” Mark said.
I did.
No answer.
Then my phone rang.
My mother.
I nearly dropped it.
“Mom?”
“Claire, don’t panic.”
Worst four words in the English language.
“What happened?”
“Sophie is fine.”
“Where is she?”
“With me.”
“Where?”
“We left the house.”
“Why?”
“A man came to the door.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What man?”
“He said he was from the hospital. He said Ben had authorized someone to collect Sophie for testing.”
My hand began shaking.
“Did you let him in?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Did he see Sophie?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where are you now?”
“At your brother’s.”
“No. Leave.”
“What?”
“Take Sophie somewhere no one would expect.”
“Claire, you’re scaring me.”
“Good. Be scared. Take her and go somewhere public. Police station. Now.”
I called Detective Ramirez.
Within ten minutes officers were heading to my brother’s house.
Security was placed outside Ben’s room.
St. Matthew’s suspended Cole and Vance.
But both men remained missing.
At seven that night, doctors removed Ben’s breathing tube.
His voice sounded like gravel.
I wanted to hug him.
I wanted to slap him.
Instead I gave him ice chips.
“You lied to me for fourteen months.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“You let me think you were choosing work over us.”
“I know.”
“You missed Sophie’s birthday.”
His face crumpled.
“I know.”
I placed the cup down.
“No. You don’t get to say that like it fixes anything.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Why didn’t you trust me?”
“I trusted you.”
“That is not what trust looks like.”
He turned his head toward me.
There were tears in his eyes.
“I was afraid.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
“No, Ben. You don’t. Because you knew what you were afraid of. I spent a year wondering whether you stopped loving us.”
His face changed.
That landed.
“Claire…”
“I wondered if there was someone else.”
“No.”
“I wondered if you regretted marrying me.”
“Never.”
“I wondered whether Sophie and I had become chores you came home to after the important part of your life was finished.”
His eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
He fell silent.
For a long time, the only sound was the monitor.
Then he whispered, “You were the important part.”
I looked away.
“I convinced myself that if you hated me for working too much, that would be easier than watching you count every headache.”
“You didn’t get to make that decision for me.”
“I know.”
I glared at him.
He almost smiled.
“Sorry.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
One tiny, broken laugh.
Then I remembered why Sophie was under police protection.
“What do you remember?”
Ben’s expression became serious.
“Before the procedure?”
“Yes.”
“Cole came into pre-op.”
“What did he say?”
“He wanted me to sign an assignment agreement.”
“For the research?”
“Yes.”
“And you refused.”
“He said I was being reckless.”
“Was he threatening you?”
“Not directly.”
“Ben.”
“He said people sometimes mistake stubbornness for integrity.”
“Charming.”
“I told him to leave.”
“What happened next?”
“Mark came in. We reviewed the plan.”
“Mark says everything was correct then.”
“It was.”
“Someone changed the medication afterward.”
Ben frowned.
“What medication?”
I explained.
His face went pale.
“That could have caused the swelling?”
“Mark thinks so.”
Ben stared at the ceiling.
“Then this wasn’t a complication.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
His breathing accelerated.
I touched his shoulder.
“Easy.”
He looked at me.
“Where’s the laptop?”
“With police.”
“Good.”
“What was on it besides the video?”
“Everything.”
“Define everything.”
“Financial records. Delaney correspondence. Access logs. Research copies.”
“Anything involving Sophie?”
He hesitated.
My anger rose instantly.
“Benjamin.”
“There’s a sealed folder.”
“For what?”
“Her risk profile.”
“Based on what?”
“Family history and indirect markers.”
“You promised on the video you didn’t genetically test her.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then why does Cole want her?”
Ben looked confused.
“I don’t know.”
“You told me to run with her.”
“Because I remembered something.”
“What?”
His voice dropped.
“When I started waking up, before you were here, I heard Cole talking.”
My skin prickled.
“What did he say?”
“He thought I was unconscious.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Ben swallowed.
“He said, ‘If Henderson won’t give us the daughter’s sample, we’ll obtain it another way.’”
I sat perfectly still.
“Why would they want Sophie’s blood?”
“To prove inheritance.”
“For what?”
“If the mutation is hereditary and my procedure works, the commercial value changes dramatically.”
“How?”
“Screening programs. Preventive treatment. Licensing.”
“Money.”
“A lot of money.”
“How much?”
“Potentially billions.”
My stomach turned.
“And you wanted to make it available?”
“At cost.”
Of course he did.
“You were planning to give away something worth billions.”
“I was planning to prevent children from dying.”
“And Delaney didn’t appreciate that.”
“No.”
I stood.
“Then this is simple.”
Ben looked at me.
“We release everything.”
“What?”
“The research.”
“Claire—”
“Put it somewhere no one can steal.”
“It isn’t validated.”
“Then release the ownership.”
He frowned.
“Explain.”
“If they’re threatening you because they want exclusive control, take away the exclusivity.”
Ben stared at me.
I could see his mind working.
“You could establish an open medical trust.”
“Exactly.”
“Publish the protocol.”
“Exactly.”
“Grant nonexclusive licenses.”
“Yes.”
His expression shifted.
For the first time since waking, something like the old Ben appeared.
“My wife is terrifying.”
“Your wife spent fourteen months being lied to. She’s adapting.”
His smile faded.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“There’s a problem.”
“Of course there is.”
“The intellectual property isn’t entirely mine.”
I closed my eyes.
“Delaney.”
“Twenty percent.”
“Can they block release?”
“They’ll try.”
“Can they win?”
“Maybe.”
I hated that word.
A knock came at the door.
Detective Ramirez entered.
Her expression told me something had happened.
“We found Paul Vance.”
“Where?”
“In his car.”
Ben tried to sit higher.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief lasted two seconds.
“He claims Cole ordered the medication change.”
Ramirez looked at Ben.
“And he says he has proof.”
My heart jumped.
“Then arrest Cole.”
“We would.”
A pause.
“If we knew where he was.”
Ben looked at me.
Ramirez continued.
“His phone was found near the airport.”
“He left?”
“We don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“Because airport cameras never show him entering a terminal.”
“So he dumped the phone.”
“That’s our assumption.”
“Where would he go?”
Ramirez looked at Ben.
“That’s what we hoped you could tell us.”
Ben’s expression became distant.
Then suddenly terrified.
“The cabin.”
“What cabin?”
“My father’s.”
I stared at him.
“You told me it was sold.”
“It was supposed to be.”
“You lied about that too?”
“I transferred it into a research trust.”
“Why?”
“There’s an archive there.”
Ramirez straightened.
“What archive?”
“Original patient data.”
“Is Sophie’s information there?”
Ben’s face went pale.
“Yes.”
I called my mother.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then my phone buzzed with a text from her.
At police station now. Sophie safe.
I exhaled.
Another message arrived.
Unknown number.
A photograph.
Sophie.
Taken outside her school two weeks earlier.
Underneath it:
YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO US.
Then another message.
BRING THE LAPTOP TO THE CABIN. COME ALONE.
Ben saw my face.
“What?”
I showed him.
His monitor began alarming as his heart rate jumped.
Ramirez took my phone.
“Do not respond.”
Then a third message appeared.
This one was a photograph of my mother’s car.
Taken minutes ago.
Outside the police station.
May you like
The final line read:
WE CAN WAIT.
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