THE AMBULANCE AT THE GATE

I pulled my phone from my pocket.

The screen flashed with an unknown, restricted number. I frowned.

“Who is it?” Caleb asked, his protective instincts immediately flaring. He adjusted Nora in his arms, his eyes scanning the quiet street behind the police barricades.

“I don't know,” I said, answering the call. “Hello?”

Static hissed over the line. Then, a mechanically altered voice spoke.

“Did you really think the video was the only copy, Nurse?”

My blood turned to ice.

“Who is this?” I demanded.

“Dr. Bell was a foolish man,” the voice continued, smooth and entirely devoid of emotion. “He thought he could control the Chicago syndicate. But Salvatore wasn't the real boss. He was just a middleman.”

I put the phone on speaker. Caleb leaned in, his expression hardening back into the lethal mask of a mafia boss.

“You gave the FBI Salvatore, and for that, we thank you,” the voice said. “You cleared the board. But Caleb’s shipping routes still belong to us. We expect the transfer papers signed by Friday.”

“I don't negotiate with ghosts,” Caleb growled into the phone. “Show your face.”

“Oh, we’re not ghosts, Caleb,” the voice laughed softly. “Look inside your nurse’s medical bag. The front pocket.”

The line went dead.

I dropped the phone. My hands trembled as I grabbed my black medical bag from the ambulance bumper. I unzipped the small front compartment.

Inside, sitting next to my stethoscope, was a single object.

It was a small, silver pacifier.

Caleb stared at it, the color draining from his face.

Answer one: The syndicate had access to my bag. Someone had slipped it in while we were at the warehouse.

“Caleb,” I whispered, looking at the silver object. “Whose is this?”

“It was Anna’s,” he said, his voice barely a breath. “She bought it when she was pregnant. But Nora never used it.”

He looked up at me, pure terror in his eyes.

“Rachel. Anna wasn't just pregnant with Nora.”

Open two: What did he mean?

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“Three years ago, right before Anna 'died,'” Caleb swallowed hard, “she was pregnant again. A boy. Dr. Bell told me she miscarried due to the stress. I buried an empty casket for her, but I buried a real box for my unborn son.”

My mind raced. “If Bell faked her death… did he fake the miscarriage too?”

“Daddy?” Nora shifted in Caleb’s arms, waking up and rubbing her eyes. She looked at the silver pacifier in my hand.