Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO ASKED FOR THE BABIES FIRST
David Mercer did not look like a man who had just learned that the mother of his newborn children had nearly died alone on a living room floor.
His tie was straight.
His shoes were polished.
His hair was still damp from a recent shower.
He looked annoyed rather than terrified.
"I asked where my children are," he repeated.
Dana remained between him and Emma.
"The twins are receiving medical treatment.
Their condition and location are private until staff verifies your identity and legal relationship."
David's eyes narrowed.
"Legal relationship?
I just told you I'm their father."
The older woman beside him stepped forward.
She was elegant, silver-haired, and composed in the way of someone accustomed to rooms rearranging themselves around her.
"My son should not have to argue at a reception desk while his newborns are in danger," she said.
"Please get the attending physician."
The younger man with the briefcase produced a business card.
"Andrew Cole, counsel for Mr. Mercer."
Samuel watched them from several feet away.
He had seen desperate families arrive at emergency rooms in pajamas, slippers, work uniforms, bathrobes, and once with shaving cream still on a man's face.
They asked the same questions first.
Is she alive?
Can I see him?
What happened?
David Mercer had asked where his children were.
Not where Rachel was.
Not whether she was breathing.
Not who had found her.
The distinction stayed with Samuel.
Emma's fingers had disappeared inside Dana's hand.
"Do you know him?
Dana asked softly.
Emma nodded without looking up.
"Is he the babies' dad?"
Another nod.
"Do you want to talk to him?"
This time Emma shook her head so hard that strands of hair stuck to her cheek.
Dana did not move.
David saw the response and exhaled through his nose.
"Emma is tired," he said.
"She has always been dramatic when she's overtired."
Samuel turned his head.
Dana's expression cooled.
"She pushed two newborn babies four miles to an emergency room.
I think she's entitled to choose whether she wants a conversation right now."
David's mouth tightened.
Before he could answer, Dr. Priya Shah came through the secure doors.
"Mr. Mercer?"
David immediately stepped toward her.
"Yes."
"I'm Dr. Shah.
I am treating the twins."
"How are they?"
"Both are dehydrated and underweight for their age, but they are responding to fluids, warmth, and feeding support.
One twin, the boy, had a low body temperature and low blood sugar when he arrived.
The girl is more stable.
We are monitoring both closely."
For the first time, a crack appeared in David's composure.
"Can I see them?"
"After we verify parental status and after social services speaks with you."
"Why social services?"
Dr. Shah looked at him as if the question itself bothered her.
"Because two newborns were brought here in a wheelbarrow by a six-year-old child after apparently spending several days in a home with an unresponsive adult."
David's eyes flicked toward Emma.
"Rachel was supposed to have help."
That sentence changed the air around him.
Samuel stepped closer.
"What help?"
David looked over.
"Who are you?"
"One of the paramedics who found Rachel."
"Then this doesn't concern you."
"It concerned me when I found her barely responsive on the floor."
Andrew Cole moved between them with the smallest shift of his shoulders.
"Mr. Mercer is under significant stress.
Perhaps all factual questions should go through the investigating officer."
Samuel held David's gaze.
"Fine by me."
A uniformed deputy entered from the ambulance bay almost on cue.
He was the same deputy who had secured the house.
His name tag read COLLINS.
"Mr. Mercer?"
David turned.
"Yes."
"Deputy Collins with the county sheriff's office.
I need to ask you a few questions about the residence on Pine Hollow Road."
Andrew immediately spoke.
"I'll be present."
"That's your choice."
David looked toward the neonatal doors again.
"How long is this going to take?"
Deputy Collins studied him.
"Depends on your answers."
They moved to a consultation room down the hall.
The older woman did not follow.
Instead, she turned toward Emma.
Dana shifted before she could take a step.
"Mrs...?"
"Evelyn Mercer.
David's mother."
"Emma has asked not to speak with Mr. Mercer.
I am going to extend that boundary to family until social services evaluates the situation."
Evelyn gave her a thin smile.
"You are a nurse.
You are not her guardian."
"Correct.
I'm also the adult standing between a frightened six-year-old and people she does not want near her."
The smile disappeared.
Emma looked up at Evelyn for the first time.
"You said Mommy was making trouble," she whispered.
Evelyn's face changed so quickly that Dana almost wondered if she had imagined it.
"When did I say that?"
Emma pulled closer to Dana.
"On the phone."
"Emma, you may have misunderstood."
"You said Daddy should stop giving her money because she was making trouble."
Evelyn glanced at Samuel.
He was listening.
"Children hear fragments," she said smoothly.
"They turn them into stories."
Emma's chin began to tremble.
"I don't tell stories."
Dana crouched immediately.
"Nobody here is saying you do."
"She is."
"I know."
Evelyn folded her arms.
"This is precisely why she needs family, not strangers feeding her fear."
Dana stood again.
"Please step away."
The older woman's eyes sharpened.
"Do you have any idea who my family is?"
"Right now you're a visitor in an emergency department.
Please step away."
Evelyn stared at her for several seconds.
Then she turned without another word and walked toward the waiting area.
Samuel waited until she was out of earshot.
"Emma, can I ask you one question?"
Dana gave him a warning look.
"Nothing about the house that police should handle."
He nodded.
"Do you know why your mom told you not to open the door for David?"
Emma looked at the floor.
"Because he gets loud."
Samuel felt Dana's grip tighten on the child's shoulder.
"Did he hurt your mom?"
Dana cut in.
"Sam."
He stopped immediately.
"You're right.
Sorry."
Emma, however, had already answered.
"He doesn't hit her."
Then she added something even more disturbing.
"He just makes her sign things when she cries."
Dana and Samuel looked at each other.
Across the hall, a social worker named Marisol Vega had just arrived and heard the last sentence.
She did not interrupt.
She simply took out a notebook.
Inside the consultation room, Deputy Collins placed three photographs on the table in front of David Mercer.
One showed the living room.
One showed the chained front door.
The third showed the black Mercer Development Group mug sitting on the kitchen counter.
David stared at it for half a second too long.
Collins noticed.
"Recognize that?"
"My company gives away hundreds of those."
"Were you at Rachel Hale's house in the last seventy-two hours?"
Andrew Cole leaned forward.
"My client does not need to speculate about exact timing without reviewing his schedule."
Collins kept his eyes on David.
"I'm not asking his lawyer."
David leaned back.
"I stopped by two nights ago."
Collins's face did not move.
"What time?"
"Around nine."
"Did you go inside?"
"No."
Collins slid the photograph of the mug closer.
"Then how did your company mug get on her kitchen counter?"
David did not answer immediately.
Andrew placed a hand over the photograph.
"This interview is over until we understand the scope of your investigation."
Collins ignored him.
"Mr. Mercer, a woman nearly died in that house.
A six-year-old says she spent three days trying to wake her.
The door was chained from the inside after the child left.
If you were there, now is the time to tell me exactly what happened."
David's jaw flexed.
"I knocked.
No one answered.
I left."
"You just said you didn't go inside."
"I didn't."
"So the mug is coincidence."
"Apparently."
Collins stood.
"I'll be checking cameras, phone records, vehicle location data, and everyone who had access to that house."
For the first time, David's polished calm slipped.
"You need a warrant for some of that."
Collins gave him a small nod.
"You're right."
Then he smiled without warmth.
"Which is why I'm going to get one."
Back in the emergency department, Rachel's condition worsened.
Her blood pressure crashed again.
The obstetric team suspected a severe postpartum infection complicated by blood loss and prolonged dehydration.
She was rushed to surgery.
Emma saw the doors move and stood.
"Where are they taking Mommy?"
Marisol crouched beside her.
"The doctors found something they need to fix."
"Is she going to wake up?"
Marisol did not make promises she could not keep.
"They are doing everything they can."
Emma stared through the glass for a long moment.
Then she whispered, "She tried to call somebody."
Marisol's pen stopped.
"When?"
"The first day.
Before she got really sleepy."
"Who did she call?"
Emma thought hard.
"She said, 'David, please come.'"
Samuel was standing close enough to hear.
"Did he come?
Marisol asked.
Emma nodded.
Everyone around her became still.
"Did you see him?"
"Through the window."
"What did he do?"
Emma's face went pale with the memory.
"He looked at Mommy."
"From outside?"
Emma shook her head.
"No. He came in."
The silence around them deepened.
"Then what happened?"
Emma looked toward the consultation room where David had disappeared with the deputy.
"He took the papers from Mommy's bag."
Marisol lowered her voice.
"What papers?"
May you like
Emma swallowed.
"The ones Mommy said proved the babies were hers too."
