The Maplewood Search

Nora sank into the worn leather of the backseat, her chest heaving as the cab tore away from the hospital grounds. Her trembling fingers dug into her small bag, fishing out her phone. She hit Roman's speed dial, praying he would pick up fast.

The line barely rang twice before he answered.

"Roman, it's me," Nora breathed, her voice frantic. "My daughters are at Maplewood Welfare."

A heavy pause stretched across the line. "How do you know that?" Roman asked, his tone tightening with a protective frown.

Nora quickly recounted her unexpected encounter with Leo, spilling the details of their brief alliance and the information the boy had shared.

Roman sighed, the sound heavy with concern. "Nora, you are staking this on the casual words of a small child. Do you fully believe what a toddler says? Aren't you terrified this is just another elaborate, cruel trap set by Julian?"

"I simply cannot afford to care about the risks," Nora declared. Her grip on the phone turned her knuckles white. "Even if there is only a microscopic sliver of a chance my babies are in that building, I am taking it. I have to go."

A beat of silence passed before Roman yielded. He respected her unyielding maternal drive too much to stop her. "Fine. I will meet you directly at the facility."

"Thank you." Nora ended the call. She leaned forward and rolled the window down. The cool night air rushed into the stuffy cab. For the first time in five agonizing years, she breathed in the raw, intoxicating scent of true freedom. The glowing neon city lights blurred past her eyes, washing away the sterile stench of the hospital and the suffocating shadows of her literal prison cell. A genuine smile tugged at her pale lips.

But her brief moment of relief shattered when the cab ground to a halt. Red brake lights stretched endlessly across the concrete overpass.

Nora checked the glowing navigation screen on the dashboard. "Sir, how much longer until we get there?"

The driver tapped the red line on his app. "Twenty minutes, at best. The traffic is bumper-to-bumper."

"But the map says it is only a kilometer away," Nora argued, her pulse spiking in a fresh wave of panic.

"Yeah, but we can't turn left off this overpass. We have to go further down, loop around the construction site, and make a U-turn at the junction. They are building a new subway line here."

Nora could not bear a single second more of waiting. She dug into her pocket, slapped a handful of crumpled bills onto the center console, and grabbed the door handle. "Keep the change. Please, unlock the doors. I am getting out here."

"Miss, watch out for the cars!" the driver yelled as the locks clicked open.

Nora threw the door open and bolted. She hit the pavement running, dodging between stalled vehicles and deliberately ignoring the chaotic symphony of blaring horns surrounding her. An ambulance wailed in the distance, speeding past her on the shoulder, but the sound barely registered in her racing mind.

Her oversized, borrowed shoes slapped awkwardly against the asphalt. They slowed her down, the stiff material digging mercilessly into her skin. She kept running as fast as her physically depleted, malnourished body would allow. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribcage. The impatient drivers leaned on their horns, the loud noise drowning out the incessant ringing of her own mobile phone inside her purse.

She stumbled, kicked the tight shoes off, and kept running barefoot down the debris-littered pavement. The rough asphalt tore at her soles. Blisters formed and popped with every desperate stride, causing her feet to bleed profusely. The physical toll of the sprint was immense. Her muscles screamed in protest, but her desperate need to see her children propelled her forward.

She finally reached the edge of the overpass. The illuminated sign for Maplewood Welfare flickered in the distance. The sheer agony in her bleeding feet forced her to stop by a streetlight. She dropped to the curb, wincing as she tried to force her bruised, bloody heels back into the tight footwear.

Tires whispered against the curb beside her. A sleek, black Bentley pulled up, the passenger door swinging open before the car even fully stopped.

Roman stepped out into the night air. His sharp eyes took in her battered, bleeding state with immense alarm. He did not say a word, just stepped forward, grabbed her arm gently, and guided her into the luxurious backseat of his vehicle.

Nora collapsed against the soft leather, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Roman slid in beside her. Demonstrating profound care, he leaned down, carefully lifting her injured foot, and rested it on his knee. He pulled a pristine, expensive silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and began to wipe away the fresh blood.

"Roman, I can do it," she protested, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she glanced at his perfectly styled hair.

"Hold still," he instructed softly, his touch grounding her chaotic energy. "This will be your very first time meeting your daughters. You must leave them with a good, stable impression. Fix your hair. I will handle this so we can get inside faster."

Nora swallowed hard and reached up to tidy her disheveled hair, smoothing down the stray strands.

Roman finished dabbing the blood and examined the raw blisters on her heels. He frowned deep. "Nora, these shoes do not fit you."

"I wear a size 37 now," Nora murmured. She used to wear a 36 before she got pregnant, but the physical changes of carrying twins behind bars had permanently altered her shoe size.

Roman paused, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I am sorry. I assumed you were still wearing a 36. Give me a minute. I will text my assistant to bring a brand new, proper pair."

He reached for his phone, but Nora caught his wrist.

"No," she pleaded, her voice trembling with sheer desperation. "Please, Roman. I cannot wait. I just want to see the kids first."

Roman stared into her pleading eyes and sighed, putting the phone away. "Alright."

Nora gritted her teeth and jammed her wounded feet into the tight shoes. Sharp pain shot up her legs, but she welcomed it. Compared to the joy of finally laying eyes on her daughters, this physical sting was nothing. She pushed the passenger door open. "Roman, let's go in."

Roman offered his arm to support her. Nora leaned into his strength as she limped up the stone steps of Maplewood Welfare.

The security guard at the front desk took one look at Roman’s tailored suit and Nora’s elegant silk dress, offering a bright, welcoming smile. "Good evening! Are you two here to adopt a child? The children here are very well-behaved—"

"I am here to make a donation," Roman interrupted smoothly, utilizing his immense wealth to bypass the small talk.

The guard’s eyes widened with delight. "Of course. Let me inform the director right away."

Maplewood Welfare was a charity project that housed many orphans, most of whom were terminally ill. While it received state funding, it constantly struggled to keep its operations running.

Minutes later, Rebecca Hayes, the facility director, hurried into the guest lounge. Blinded by the promise of sudden funds, she beamed at the handsome pair, mistakenly assuming they were a wealthy married couple. "You two make such a lovely pair. On behalf of all the children here, I thank you for your incredible kindness."

Roman did not waste time with pleasantries. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a massive check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and slid it across the wooden desk.

Rebecca’s breath hitched as she stared at the sheer amount of zeros.

Roman leaned back, his tone commanding. "Madam Hayes, we are looking for a pair of twin girls. They were sent here five years ago, in August."

Rebecca tore her eyes away from the check, her expression shifting. "August, five years ago? I was not the director back then, so I am not too sure about the situation."

Nora’s hands shook as she unclasped her bag. She pulled out the slightly crumpled photograph of Hazel and Stella and pushed it across the desk toward the director. "Please. Can I see them?"

Rebecca picked up the photo, sliding her reading glasses down her nose. "These are Hazel and Stella." She looked up, her tone shifting from welcoming to deeply questioning as her gaze swept over Nora’s expensive silk dress. "Who exactly are you to these girls?"

"I am their mother," Nora said eagerly, her voice cracking.

The welcoming warmth vanished from Rebecca’s face. She asked bluntly, "You look quite well-to-do. Why would a woman like you ever abandon her own daughters?"

The sharp question caused Nora’s heart to ache fiercely. The trauma of her near-fatal delivery hit her in a suffocating wave. She remembered the agonizing pain of the amniotic fluid embolism in the prison hospital, the frantic doctors, and the terrifying darkness. Above all, she recalled Julian’s cruel, fabricated deception that her babies had died during birth. He had punished her by permanently separating her from her children.

Swallowing the immense, bitter truth of her victimization, Nora lowered her eyes in shame. "They were born in prison," she whispered heavily.

Rebecca decided not to pry any further into the dark past. The implication of those words was enough. She sighed, tapping her pen against the desk. "Are you here to take them back from the home?"

"Yes." Nora looked up, her eyes blazing with determination. She needed to compensate for the five years she owed them.

"I understand," Rebecca explained firmly, outlining the strict legal protocol. "But we cannot let you take them away for now. We legally require official state witnesses tomorrow, and we must conduct a formally authenticated maternity test with you and the kids. We will discuss releasing them into your custody only after we confirm your identity."

Nora acknowledged and understood the rigid rules. She nodded quickly, tears welling in her eyes. "I know. But please, can I just see them with my own eyes right now?"

Rebecca hesitated, checking her watch. Before she could deny the request, Roman pulled a loaded bank card from his wallet and slipped it smoothly across the desk next to the check.

Silently accepting the heavy bribe, Rebecca relented. She scooped up the check and the card. "Follow me."

She led them out of the office and down a brightly lit corridor toward the main lobby. The large space was relatively quiet, filled with scattered small groups of children sitting on colorful mats, quietly reading books.

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She gripped the doorframe, sweeping her desperate eyes across the room.

Her gaze instantly locked onto a small figure.

Tucked away in the far corner of the room, separated from the reading groups, sat a tiny girl. Her small shoulders shook as she sat alone, crying miserably into her knees.