Chapter 13 - ROOM 418
Sarah died in Room 418.
I remembered every inch of it.
The beige curtains.
The broken television remote.
The smell of antiseptic.
The rain against the window.
I remembered holding her hand.
I remembered the nurse turning off the monitors.
Rebecca had been somewhere in that building.
I felt sick.
Hall obtained old employment files.
Rebecca worked in patient records.
She had access to insurance forms.
Emergency contacts.
Financial documents.
But no access to medication.
That should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
Then they found a disciplinary report.
Rebecca had been caught using another employee’s badge to enter a restricted floor.
The date?
Two days before Sarah died.
Hall looked at me carefully.
“This doesn’t mean she harmed Sarah.”
“I know.”
“Cancer was the documented cause.”
“I know.”
“But we’re checking.”
I nodded.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Hours later, a retired nurse named Linda Marsh came to the station.
She remembered Rebecca.
“She wasn’t supposed to be upstairs.”
“Did you see her near Sarah?”
Linda hesitated.
“Yes.”
My mouth went dry.
“When?”
“The night before she died.”
“Doing what?”
“Standing outside the room.”
I gripped the table.
“Did she go inside?”
“I don’t know.”
Linda looked uncomfortable.
“But she asked me something strange.”
“What?”
“She asked whether terminal patients usually knew what they were signing.”
Every hair on my arms stood up.
“What did that mean?”
“I thought she was talking about medical consent.”
Hall leaned forward.
“Did any documents go missing?”
Linda nodded.
“There was a complaint after Sarah died.”
I stared.
“What complaint?”
“Her chart had been copied without authorization.”
My chest tightened.
“By Rebecca?”
“We never proved who.”
A detective entered the room.
He whispered to Hall.
Hall looked at me.
“They identified the remains.”
I already knew.
“Michael.”
He nodded.
Cause of death:
Blunt force trauma to the skull.
Mercer immediately changed his story.
He claimed Rebecca killed Michael during an argument.
Rebecca claimed, through a message sent from a burner phone, that Mercer did it.
Two criminals throwing each other into the fire.
Then the burner phone pinged.
Police traced it.
A bus station in Baltimore.
Security footage showed Rebecca entering a restroom.
She came out wearing different clothes.
Dark hair.
Glasses.
No wedding-ring tan.
She looked like a different person.
But she made one mistake.
She bought a child’s pink backpack.
Hall looked at me.
“She’s still thinking about Emily.”
My blood went cold.
Police increased protection.
Emily was moved to a safe location.
Only Claire, Hall, and I knew where.
That night, Emily asked:
“Can Rebecca find us?”
“No.”
It was the first lie I knowingly told her.
At 11:43 p.m., the alarm sounded.
Police flooded the hallway.
I grabbed Emily.
Claire locked the bedroom door.
A voice shouted downstairs.
“Police!”
Then glass shattered.
I held Emily against my chest.
She was shaking.
A minute later, Hall opened the door.
His face was furious.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Someone tried the back entrance.”
“Rebecca?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Two officers dragged a man into the hallway.
Mark.
My former attorney.
My best man.
He was handcuffed.
Blood ran from his forehead.
I stared at him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Mark looked at me.
Then at Emily.
His face collapsed.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He swallowed.
“She has my son.”
The hallway went dead quiet.
I stepped closer.
“What?”
Mark whispered:
“Rebecca kidnapped him this morning.”
May you like
And she had given Mark one instruction.
Bring her Emily.
