Chapter 8 - THE BLACKOUT
Dad moved before I could process what was happening.
“Stay down.”
He pushed my bed away from the door.
Detective Grant drew her weapon.
Hospital emergency lights flickered on.
Red.
Dim.
Terrifying.
Another scream came from the hallway.
Then a crash.
My breathing turned shallow.
“Chloe.”
“She’s not here,” Dad said.
Thank God.
The door handle moved.
Grant raised her weapon.
“Police. Identify yourself.”
No answer.
The handle moved again.
Dad positioned himself beside the door.
It opened.
A nurse stumbled inside.
Blood ran from a cut above her eyebrow.
“He hit me.”
“Who?”
“A man in maintenance clothes.”
Dad looked at Grant.
“Vale.”
The nurse pointed down the hall.
“He asked which room Audrey Mercer was in.”
My stomach dropped.
They had moved me under a false name.
Someone inside the hospital had told him.
Grant called for backup.
Dad stepped into the hallway.
“Stay here.”
“Dad—”
“I’m not leaving the floor.”
I knew that tone.
The corridor outside erupted in shouting.
I heard running.
A door slammed.
Then silence.
Five minutes later, power returned.
Police searched every floor.
Marcus Vale was gone.
But security cameras caught him exiting through a stairwell.
Someone had disabled the electrical panel manually.
Someone had also accessed the hospital’s patient database thirty minutes earlier.
The login belonged to an administrator named Steven Cole.
Cole swore he had been home sick all day.
His password had been stolen.
Julian had help.
More help than anyone realized.
That evening, Chloe visited me under police escort.
She climbed carefully onto the edge of the bed.
“Mommy, are you coming home soon?”
I forced a smile.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“As soon as my legs cooperate.”
She touched my cast.
“Daddy said you didn’t want to come home.”
My smile disappeared.
“What?”
“At the airport.”
She looked down.
“He said you liked the hospital because everybody felt sorry for you.”
Dad stood near the door.
His jaw tightened.
“What else did Daddy say?”
Chloe hesitated.
“That Grandpa was trying to steal us.”
I closed my eyes.
Julian had been poisoning her against us even while running.
Then she whispered,
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“I saw the lady.”
“What lady?”
“The lady Daddy talks to.”
My heart stopped.
“Vanessa?”
“I don’t know her name.”
“Where?”
“At our house.”
“When?”
“The night before your car crash.”
Dad and I looked at each other.
Chloe continued.
“They were arguing in Daddy’s office.”
“About what?”
“I was getting water.”
She hugged her stuffed rabbit.
“The lady said, ‘You said she wouldn’t feel anything.’”
Ice slid through my veins.
“What did Daddy say?”
Chloe frowned, trying to remember.
“He said, ‘Then make sure Marcus does it right.’”
No one spoke.
My eight-year-old daughter had just connected Julian directly to Marcus Vale.
Detective Grant knelt beside her.
“Chloe, did Daddy see you?”
She shook her head.
Then she suddenly looked frightened.
“But the lady did.”
Vanessa.
“What happened?”
“She came into the hallway.”
Chloe squeezed my hand.
“She told me if I ever repeated what I heard, something bad might happen to you.”
Dad went still.
I pulled Chloe against me.
And that was the moment the investigation stopped being about my accident.
Because Julian and Vanessa had threatened my daughter.
My father looked at Detective Grant.
“Find them.”
Grant nodded.
But before she could answer, her phone rang.
She listened.
Then turned toward us.
“We found Vanessa.”
“Where?”
“At a motel six miles from here.”
“Is Julian with her?”
Grant’s face changed.
“No.”
May you like
“Then what?”
“She’s dead.”
