Chapter 69 DOCTOR'S VISIT
Dr. Diane walked in five minutes later. She was a small woman in her fifties with reading glasses perched on her nose and a cardigan covered in cats.
Noah loved her because she always had stickers and never made shots hurt more than they had to.
"Noah! Good to see you." Dr. Diane smiled at him, then looked at Vivienne. "So I hear we had a rough day on the playground?"
"Not that rough," Noah said. "I just fell when Marcus tried to tag me. But I got back up really fast."
"I'm sure you did." Dr. Diane rolled her stool over to the exam table. "Let's take a look at these battle wounds."
Noah proudly showed her his lightning bolt bruise.
"Very impressive," Dr. Diane said, examining it carefully. She pressed gently around the edges. "Does this hurt?"
"A little. But not a lot."
She checked his other arm, his legs, felt along his ribs and collarbone. "Any pain anywhere else? Your stomach? Your back?"
"Nope."
"Did you hit your head when you fell?"
"I don't think so." Noah looked at Vivienne. "Did I?"
"I don't know, baby. Did you feel dizzy or confused after?"
"No. I just got up and kept playing."
Dr. Diane nodded, making notes. "Well, the good news is everything looks normal. These are completely consistent with an active nine-year-old boy who plays hard at recess." She smiled at Vivienne. "Nothing to worry about. The bruises will fade in a week or so."
The relief that washed over Vivienne was so overwhelming she had to blink back tears. "You're sure? They're not concerning?"
"Not at all. I've seen much worse from playground accidents. These are very minor." Dr. Diane rolled back to her tablet. "Let me just update his file while we're here. Make sure everything's current."
She tapped at the screen, scrolling through information. "Height and weight from his last visit are still recent. Immunizations up to date. Good."
Noah had found another toy on the counter, some kind of wire maze with beads you could slide around. He was absorbed in trying to get all the red beads to one side.
"Blood type," Dr. Diane said, still reading. "AB negative. That's on here from when he had that ear infection last year and we did the full panel."
Vivienne's whole body went still.
Dr. Diane didn't notice. She just kept typing, casual and unconcerned. "That's actually quite rare. Only about one percent of the population. Good to have it properly documented in case of emergencies."
The room felt small suddenly. And hot. Vivienne tried to focus on breathing normally.
AB negative.
Alexander had AB negative blood.
She knew this because he'd mentioned it once, years ago, talking about blood drives at his father's company. How he always donated because it was so rare and hospitals needed it.
And now Noah had the same type.
"Mom?" Noah was looking at her.
"Yes, baby." Her voice came out steady.
Noah grinned. "Told you I wasn't broken."
Dr. Diane finished her notes and turned back to them. "So, anything else while you're here? Any questions or concerns?"
"No," Vivienne managed. "I think we're good."
"Great. Noah, you're free to go be a wild child on the playground. Just maybe try to fall a little less dramatically next time."
"I'll try," Noah said seriously.
Dr. Diane handed him a sticker sheet. "For being such a good patient."
"Thanks!" Noah immediately started picking through the options, trying to decide between a dinosaur and a spaceship.
"You know where to find me if anything changes," Dr. Diane said to Vivienne. "But honestly, he's perfectly healthy. These things happen."
"Thank you," Vivienne said. "Really."
After Dr. Diane left, Noah picked the dinosaur sticker and stuck it to his shirt. "Can we get ice cream on the way home?"
"It's four-thirty on a Wednesday."
"So?"
"So you're going to ruin your dinner."
"I'll eat extra vegetables to make up for it." Noah gave her his most angelic smile. "Please?"
Vivienne couldn't say no. Not today. Not after spending the whole afternoon terrified something was seriously wrong.
"Fine. But just a small cone."
"Yes!" Noah hopped off the exam table. "Can I get chocolate chip?"
"You can get whatever you want."
They stopped at the ice cream shop two blocks from the apartment. Noah got chocolate chip with sprinkles. Vivienne got nothing, her stomach still in knots.
Noah chattered the whole walk home, talking about school and his friends and some project they were doing about the solar system. He wanted to build Jupiter because it was the biggest and had a giant red spot that was actually a storm.
Vivienne listened and responded and tried not to think about his rare blood type.
They reached the apartment building just as Noah finished his cone. He had chocolate on his nose and his shirt, despite Vivienne's best efforts with napkins.
"Go wash your hands and face," she said as they walked inside. "And change that shirt before it stains."
"Okay." Noah ran ahead up the stairs, taking them two at a time like he always did.
Vivienne followed more slowly, fishing her keys out of her bag.
Everything was fine. Noah was healthy. The bruises were nothing. The doctor said so.
But the blood type thing...
She unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside.
Something was wrong.
She couldn't put her finger on what, exactly. Nothing looked obviously disturbed. No furniture moved. No broken windows or kicked-in doors.
But something felt different.
"Noah," she called. "Stay in your room for a minute, okay?"
"Why?"
"Just do it, please."
She heard his bedroom door close.
Vivienne moved through the apartment slowly. Living room looked normal. Kitchen looked normal. Bathroom looked normal.
But when she got to her bedroom, she stopped.
The door was open.
She always closed her bedroom door. Always. It was habit, something she'd done since Noah was a toddler getting into everything.
But now it stood open about six inches.
Vivienne pushed it wider and stepped inside.
At first glance, everything looked fine. Bed made. Curtains drawn. Dresser in place.
Then she noticed the dresser.
The top drawer, where she kept her underwear and socks, wasn't closed all the way. It stuck out maybe an inch, like someone had opened it and not pushed it back properly.
Vivienne's mouth went dry.
She walked over and pulled the drawer open fully.
Everything looked normal. Clothes folded the way she'd left them. Nothing obviously missing or disturbed.
But she knew she'd closed this drawer. She'd gotten socks out that morning and made sure it was shut.
Someone had opened it.
She checked the other drawers. All closed properly. Nothing missing that she could tell.
Then she looked at her closet.
The door was slightly ajar. And on the floor, pushed to the side but not quite back in its usual spot, was the plastic storage box where she kept Noah's baby things.
The one that had held the yellow blanket until Saturday night.
Vivienne knelt down and pulled the box toward her. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely get the lid off.
Inside, everything looked normal. Noah's first onesie. His hospital bracelet from when he was born. A lock of his baby hair in a tiny envelope. Some photos from his first birthday.
Nothing missing.
But the items weren't arranged the way she'd left them. The photos were on top now, when she always kept them on the bottom under everything else.
Someone had gone through this box.
Someone had been in her apartment. In her bedroom. Going through her personal things.
Looking for what?
Or just sending a message?
Vivienne sat back on her heels, staring at the box.
They could get in whenever they wanted. They'd proven that Saturday with the gift box outside her door.
"Mom?" Noah's voice came from the hallway. "Can I come out now?"
Vivienne shoved the box back in the closet and stood up, closing the door. "Yeah, baby. Come on out."
Noah appeared in her doorway. He'd changed into a clean t-shirt and washed his face, though he'd missed a spot of chocolate by his cheek.
"What were you doing?" he asked.
"Just looking for something." She walked over and wiped the chocolate spot with her thumb. "There. Perfect."
"What are we having for dinner?"
Dinner. Right. Normal things. Normal mom things.
"How about pasta?" she suggested.
"With the red sauce?"
"With the red sauce."
Noah ran back to his room, already moving on to whatever he was doing next.
Vivienne stood in her bedroom doorway, looking at the dresser drawer again.
Someone had been here.
And they knew she'd be out.
She walked back to the kitchen to start dinner, moving through the motions automatically.
But she couldn't shake the feeling.
Of being watched even in her own home.
Nowhere was safe anymore.
Not the studio. Not the street. Not even here.