Chapter 4 - The Ghost Folder
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"POLICE! HANDS IN THE AIR!"
Detective Mason and three armed officers burst into the room, their boots thundering against the linoleum. Mason tackled Margaret sideways, ripping the pillow off my face and throwing her against the medical equipment tower.
Monitors shrieked. Trays of metal instruments crashed to the floor.
Margaret screamed, her pristine composure shattering as the officers pinned her arms behind her back, digging her face into the cold floorboards.
"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!" Margaret shrieked, her voice turning shrill and demonic. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM! ETHAN! ETHAN, HELP ME!"
I gasped desperately for air, my chest rising and falling in violent, painful heaves. Oxygen rushed back into my brain, bringing tears of pure relief to my eyes.
"We got it all on audio, Margaret," Mason growled, snapping metal handcuffs tightly around her wrists. "Every single word."
As they dragged a hysterical Margaret out into the corridor, Mason stayed behind. He pulled a chair up to my bed, wiped the sweat from my forehead with a napkin, and waited until my breathing stabilized.
"You did great, Claire," Mason said softly. "It's over."
"Is Ethan... is Ethan involved?" I choked out, my voice raspy from suffocation.
Mason didn't answer immediately. His face darkened, a heavy shadow settling over his features. He reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out an old, faded manila folder.
The paper was yellowed at the edges, stamped with a red "CLOSED INVESTIGATION" seal from four years ago.
Across the front of the folder, written in dark black ink, was a name I had never heard in my eighteen months of marriage.
Emily Morgan.
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"I don't know who that is," I whispered, staring at the ink.
Mason looked at me with deep, chilling pity. "No. But Ethan did."
