Chapter 12 - The Digital Ghost
-12-
The storm broke outside just as night fell, lashing the cabin windows with sheets of cold rain and howling wind through the pine trees. Inside, the fire roared in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow over the small room.
Mae sat at a heavy oak writing desk in the corner of the cabin, an old laptop glowing brightly in the dim light. The flash drive was plugged into the side port, its small green LED light blinking rhythmically as gigabytes of encrypted hospital data scrolled down the screen in long cascades of green text.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Mae murmured, her fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced speed. “Briar Glen isn't just a maternity hospital. It’s a clearinghouse for wealthy families who want to legally seize custody of heirs before they’re even born. Doreen Carver sits on the executive board of the parent corporation that funds the entire network.”
Leah sat in the rocking chair by the fire, cradling her sleeping son against her chest. “And Nathan?”
“Nathan is just a footnote,” Mae said without looking up. “His father’s estate was tied up in a family trust controlled entirely by Doreen. Nathan doesn't have any independent wealth—he’s entirely dependent on his mother’s approval and her foundation's dividends. If he didn't help them stage your ‘psychiatric breakdown,’ he would have been cut off with nothing.”
A cold anger settled deep in Leah’s chest. Her husband hadn't just betrayed her out of callousness or marital discord; he had sold her and their unborn child to his mother for a monthly stipend and a seat at a board table.
“Can we send this to the federal authorities?” Leah asked.
“If we send it directly to the local police in Columbus, Doreen’s contacts in the municipal judiciary will intercept it before it hits a desk,” Mae explained, hitting a key to save a backup archive to an encrypted cloud server. “We need to bypass local jurisdiction entirely. We need to leak it to the federal healthcare fraud division in Washington, along with the state attorney general’s office.”
“Do it,” Leah said firmly.
Before Mae could click send, the old landline telephone on the wall beside the kitchen counter let out a sudden, shrill ring that pierced the quiet of the cabin like a gunshot.
Both women froze.
The phone rang a second time, its mechanical bell echoing off the wooden walls.
“Nobody knows this number,” Mae whispered, her face draining of color. “My uncle hasn't given this out to anyone in five years.”
“They traced the cell tower ping from the highway bridge,” Leah said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper as she stood up and walked over to the phone, adjusting her grip on the baby.
The phone rang a third time.
Leah reached out, lifted the heavy black receiver, and brought it to her ear. She didn't speak.
May you like
For five seconds, there was only the sound of static and heavy, rhythmic breathing on the other end of the line. Then Nathan’s voice came through—flat, chilling, and completely devoid of human warmth.
“I know where you are, Leah,” Nathan said softly. “The cabin on Ridge Road. My uncle used to take me deer hunting there when I was twelve. You can’t run from a family that owns the land beneath your feet.”
