Look Again - Lisa Scottoline [105]
Ellen agreed. “They do background checks on the adopting parent, like me, but they don’t do them on the women putting their baby up for adoption. Funny, huh?”
Bill sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I just cannot believe that Carol did this to me and Timothy. For money.”
“Desperate people do desperate things.” Ellen paused, feeling an odd sort of peace that came either from perspective or exhaustion. “She’s beyond judgment now. She came up with a terrible solution to a terrible problem, one that resulted in a murder, and eventually, even her own.”
Officer Halbert interjected, “I’m looking at two parents, and both of you love the same boy. Neither of you did anything wrong. It’s a lose-lose situation, and I’m sorry for you both.”
“Thanks,” Ellen said, having nothing better to say, and Bill sighed again, looking at her with new eyes. He had learned the truth, and his truth was as terrible as hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, and Ellen nodded, trying not to cry.
“Me, too.” Then she added, because it needed saying, “It sounds awful now, but I want to tell you how Carol died, because she redeemed herself. She gave her life, for Will. For Timothy. She saved his life.”
“What happened?” Bill’s lip trembled, and Ellen told him the story, after which he heaved a great sob, then collapsed into hoarse, choking sounds that hunched his broad shoulders, collapsing his frame and driving his face into his hands, in his own private hell.
There was a soft knock at the doorway, and the emergency-room nurse appeared, leaning into the room. “Ellen, your son is back from X-ray.”
“How is he?” she asked, rising.
“The doctor will give you a full report,” she answered, and Ellen went to the door.
“No, wait.” Bill looked up from his hands, his eyes red and his cheeks tear-stained. He gave a mighty sniffle. “I’m his father. Can I go in, too?”
Ellen turned to him. “If you don’t mind, Bill, would you not? It might upset him. I’ll be sure to come out and tell you.”
“He’s all I have, now. For God’s sake, I just lost my wife.”
“This isn’t about you or me. It’s about Will.”
“Timothy,” Bill corrected, rising. He wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“Whatever his name, he needs comfort now. He needs me.” Ellen watched as Bill’s eyes hardened, even wet. “Please, be realistic. He doesn’t know who you are yet. You’re a stranger to him.”
Officer Halbert stood up, too. “Mr. Braverman, she adopted him, and she’s still his mother.”
“She was never his real mother,” Bill shot back, and Ellen swallowed hard, but the ER nurse raised an authoritative hand in Bill’s direction.
“Sir, are you listed as next of kin on the intake form?”
“No.”
“Well, Ms. Gleeson is. She’s on the form as his mother, and only she can be admitted to the unit, per this hospital’s regulations. You are not permitted back with us.”
Ellen turned to go. “Bill, I’ll ask someone to come out and tell you how he is,” she said, following the nurse, who led her to the emergency-unit door, pressing in the code to unlock the door.
“What was that all about?” the nurse asked.
“It’s a long story.” Ellen only shook her head. “I just want to see if my son is all right.”
Chapter Eighty
They reached Will’s examining room, and Ellen felt a wave of déjà vu. Will lay under the covers, wearing a print hospital gown, looking tiny in the adult-size hospital bed. His head was bandaged with gauze, and he lay on the pillow with his eyes closed. Another nurse was putting up the guardrails of his bed, next to the ER doctor, a young man with rumpled hair who stopped writing on his clipboard to flash Ellen a reassuring grin.
“Don’t worry, he’s fine,” the doctor said quickly, and she almost cheered with relief.
“What did the X-ray show?” Ellen went to the bed and held Will’s hand, which felt oddly cool to the touch. His eyelids looked bluish, and she assumed that was okay, if scary.
“There’s no fracture. Children’s bones have a lot more give than adults, and it served your son