Chapter 2 - The Girl With No Name
The hospital waiting room smelled like bleach and stale coffee. I sat in a plastic chair that felt too small, my clothes still damp, my hands buried in my hair.
The last three hours had been a blur of flashing ambulance lights, frantic Spanish I barely understood, and the terrifying, steady beep of a fetal heart monitor.
"Mr. Vance?"
I shot up as a doctor in green scrubs approached. "Is she okay? Is my wife—"
"Your wife is stable," the doctor said, offering a reassuring, albeit tired, smile. "She swallowed a significant amount of chlorinated water, but her oxygen levels are back to normal. More importantly, the ultrasound shows no signs of placental abruption. The baby’s heartbeat is strong. They are both incredibly lucky."
I collapsed back into the chair, letting out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since we left the resort. "Thank God. Can I see her?"
"In a moment. She is resting. The police, however, would like a word with you first."
Before I could protest, two officers in tan uniforms stepped into the waiting area. The taller one, holding a notepad, introduced himself in heavily accented English as Officer Ramirez.
"Mr. Vance, we are investigating the structural failure at the Solara Grand Resort. We need your statement. You were the closest to the impact zone."
I nodded, recounting everything. I told them about the sudden crack, the horrific sound, and how a little girl had pushed Mara into the pool mere seconds before the glass fell.
Ramirez frowned, his pen stopping on the paper. "A little girl, señor?"
"Yes. She couldn't have been older than seven or eight. Dark hair, pale skin. She was wearing a faded yellow sundress. She saved my wife's life. I need to find her parents to thank them."
Ramirez exchanged a long, unreadable look with his partner.
"What?" I asked, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. "What is it?"
"Mr. Vance," Ramirez said slowly, "we have interviewed the resort staff and the guests who were present. We have also reviewed the guest registry." He paused, flipping his notebook shut. "There is no family staying at the Solara Grand with a daughter matching that description. And no one else on the pool deck reported seeing a little girl near your wife."
"That's impossible," I snapped, my voice echoing in the quiet room. "I saw her. She stood right in front of me. She pointed at the ceiling!"
"Trauma can play tricks on the mind, señor," the other officer said gently. "In moments of great stress, we sometimes imagine things."
"I didn't imagine her!" I was practically shouting now. I remembered the exact shade of her yellow dress. I remembered the way she shook.
"We will review the security cameras," Ramirez promised smoothly, though his eyes told me he thought I was suffering from shock. "For now, focus on your family."
They left, leaving me alone with a sickening knot in my stomach. I knew what I saw. I knew that child was real.
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And as I walked down the sterile hallway to Mara’s room, another memory hit me like a physical blow. The little girl hadn't just been looking at the ceiling. When I looked back at her face, right before I dove into the water, her eyes hadn't been focused on the falling glass.
She had been looking at the shadow of a person standing on the glass roof, right before it shattered.
