Chapter 3 - THE BAND
The first man raised both hands.
“Ms. Parker. Mr. Parker. Nobody needs to get hurt.”
Madison looked at David.
“Mr. Parker?”
David had kept her surname after the divorce.
She had never known.
The security man continued.
“We only need the hospital property.”
His eyes dropped toward David’s wrist.
The band.
David pulled his sleeve down.
Madison stepped in front of him.
“Who are you?”
“Parker Meridian Protective Services.”
Her family company.
That made no sense.
Parker Meridian Holdings owned office buildings, private clinics,
retirement communities, and a controlling stake in St. Catherine Medical
Center.
Her grandfather built it. Her father expanded it. Her uncle Richard
currently chaired it.
Madison looked at the men again.
“You work for my family?”
“We work for the company.”
“Then why are you chasing him?”
The man’s voice stayed calm.
“Mr. Parker is in possession of restricted medical property.”
Madison laughed in disbelief.
“A hospital bracelet?”
“He has also been under treatment.”
David said quietly, “Don’t listen.”
The man turned toward Madison.
“Ms. Parker, your former husband is not well.”
David laughed bitterly.
“There it is.”
Madison felt something old and ugly move inside her.
A reasonable voice telling her someone else was unstable.
She had heard versions of that before.
“Treatment for what?” she asked.
“That is confidential.”
“He has my identity on his wrist.”
The man paused.
Exactly half a second.
Too long.
Madison noticed.
So did David.
Traffic slowed around them.
People were filming.
The security men did not like that.
Madison hit the panic alarm on her SUV key.
The horn exploded.
Lights flashed.
Everyone on the sidewalk turned.
David grabbed her hand.
“Run.”
This time she did.
They cut through a hotel service entrance, down a loading corridor, and
out through a parking garage.
Two men followed.
Madison kicked off one heel. Then the other.
She had not run barefoot since she was a child.
David pulled her behind a delivery truck.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Madison—”
“You do not get to give me instructions.”
That stopped him.
Good.
A delivery van began pulling out.
Madison stepped directly in front of it.
The driver slammed the brakes and shouted.
She opened the passenger door.
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars if you drive.”
The driver stared.
David climbed in behind her.
“Make it a thousand.”
They escaped.
For three blocks nobody spoke.
Then Madison turned toward David.
“Take off the band.”
“No.”
“Take it off.”
David looked at her.
Six years disappeared from his face for one second.
He still knew that tone.
Slowly, he peeled the band from his wrist.
Madison read it.
MADISON PARKER. DOB: 09/17/1992. UNIT C7. ADMIT DATE: 02/11/2026.
ATTENDING: DR. CHARLES WYNN.
Six months earlier.
Madison looked up.
“You were admitted under my name.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
David stared at the van floor.
“I didn’t admit myself.”
“Who did?”
Silence.
“David.”
“I don’t know which person signed the order.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I woke up in St. Catherine with your name on my wrist.”
Madison felt cold.
“What were they treating you for?”
“They weren’t treating me.”
“What were they doing?”
“Questions.”
“What questions?”
David looked at her.
“Where certain files were. Whether I had contacted you. Whether I knew
who still had copies.”
Madison stared.
“What files?”
He did not answer.
She slapped the band against his chest.
“You owe me more than this.”
“I know.”
“Then start.”
David looked toward the rear window.
No SUVs.
Yet.
He lowered his voice.
“Your medical record contains things that never happened to you.”
Madison frowned.
“What things?”
“Hospital admissions.”
“No.”
“Prescriptions.”
“No.”
“A psychiatric evaluation.”
Her face changed.
“No.”
David looked at her.
“The psychiatric evaluation was created six years ago.”
Madison stopped breathing.
“When?”
His eyes filled with something that looked too much like guilt.
“The week our marriage ended.”
And suddenly the old bedroom door opened again in Madison’s mind.
May you like
Not as an answer.
As another question.
