I unlocked the screen with trembling fingers.

I pressed the voice recorder icon.

The small red light began to blink in the darkness of the hallway.

I held the phone close to my chest, pointing the microphone ahead.

I followed him down the long corridor.

The air in the hallway was cold and smelled of old wood.

Up ahead, the door to Lily’s room was open.

A sliver of yellow light from the hallway nightlight spilled across the carpet.

I could hear a low murmur.

It was Nathan’s voice.

He was speaking in a soothing, hypnotic tone.

“Where did he put the key, Mother?” he asked.

There was a long pause.

Then Eleanor’s voice came, thin and cracked with age.

“The floor,” she said. “The floor under the crib.”

“There is no crib here now, Mother,” Nathan said. “Look at the bed. Where is the key?”

“He took it,” she said. “He took it to the clinic.”

I took a silent breath and crept closer.

My heart was beating so hard I was afraid they would hear it.

“Tell me about the patient, Mother,” Nathan said.