CHAPTER 4 — ROOM SEVEN
Marcus refused to let Evie go alone.
Evie refused to let Diane die.
They compromised by pretending to obey.
At 2:40 a.m., Evie drove toward the abandoned wing of St. Catherine’s Clinic with Sophie hidden beneath a blanket in the back seat.
Marcus and a tactical team followed without lights from three blocks behind.
The clinic had closed five years earlier, but one section still received electricity.
Evie entered through a side door.
The hallway smelled of mold and antiseptic.
Room numbers had been removed from most doors.
At the end of the corridor, a red light glowed above one entrance.
ROOM 7.
Evie stepped inside.
The room looked like an old surgical theater.
A metal examination table stood beneath a single lamp. Cabinets held yellowed medication bottles. A camera pointed toward a chair fitted with leather restraints.
Richard stood in the shadows.
Beside him was Dr. Voss.
The doctor looked exactly as Evie remembered—silver hair, gentle eyes and the calm smile that had always made adults trust him.
“You survived more than we expected,” Voss said.
Evie kept her hands visible.
“Diane is still alive.”
“For now.”
Richard moved closer.
“Where is Sophie?”
“Safe.”
His expression hardened.
“You were always difficult.”
“You locked me inside a burning room.”
“The fire wasn’t meant to reach the second floor.”
“That makes it better?”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
“The files would have destroyed hundreds of families.”
“The families you sold stolen children to?”
Voss sighed.
“You see everything in simple terms. Good and evil. Victims and monsters.”
“You told mothers their babies were dead.”
“We placed children in stable homes.”
“You made money.”
“We funded the system.”
Evie fought the urge to look toward the entrance. Marcus needed time to position his team.
“Why bring Sophie here?”
Voss looked toward the restrained chair.
“To correct a problem.”
A chill crawled across Evie’s skin.
“What happens in that chair?”
“Memory can be unreliable,” Voss said. “Especially after medication.”
Evie suddenly understood.
The missing girls.
The psychiatric reports.
The stories no one believed.
Voss had drugged survivors and rewritten their medical histories.
Richard pulled out a gun.
“Last chance. Bring Sophie inside.”
Evie raised her chin.
“No.”
Richard pointed the weapon at her chest.
“You aren’t our daughter.”
“You’re right.”
The words struck him harder than she expected.
Evie continued.
“You stole me because you wanted a child you could control. But I never became what you wanted.”
Richard’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Then Sophie’s voice came from the doorway.
“She’s not alone.”
Richard spun around.
Sophie stood there holding the old video camera from the basement.
A red light blinked.
Live broadcast.
Voss lunged toward her.
The tactical team burst through both doors.
“Police! Drop the weapon!”
Gunfire exploded.
Evie dropped behind the examination table.
Richard fired once toward the doorway, then disappeared through a hidden exit behind the cabinets.
Voss fell to the floor, wounded in the shoulder.
Marcus ran to Evie.
“Are you hit?”
She shook her head.
Sophie stared at the hidden passage.
“He’s going underground.”
Marcus looked toward the dark opening.
“Where does it lead?”
Voss began laughing through the pain.
“To the place where this all started.”
Evie grabbed the doctor’s coat.
“Where?”
His smile faded.
“The maternity tunnels.”
Then an alarm sounded throughout the clinic.
May you like
Voss looked at the ceiling.
“He’s opened the gas lines.”
