Chapter 7 - Seventy-Eight Seconds in the Dark
Emergency lights flickered on.
Grace began crying.
Emily grabbed her immediately.
"Mom?"
"I'm here."
The hallway filled with voices.
Machines beeped.
Nurses moved quickly.
Seventy-eight seconds.
That was how long the hospital's main power was out before the backup system fully stabilized.
It felt like an hour.
During those seventy-eight seconds, someone entered Emily's room.
I heard the door.
A shadow moved near the wall.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
Then something metallic hit the floor.
Detective Harris shouted from the hallway.
The shadow ran.
By the time the lights returned, the person was gone.
On the floor beside Emily's bed lay a syringe.
Uncapped.
The nurse stared at it.
"Nobody touch that."
Grace screamed against Emily's chest.
I felt rage replace fear.
Someone had come into a hospital room during a power failure carrying a syringe.
Harris immediately locked down the floor.
Security footage showed a person wearing scrubs entering a stairwell three minutes before the outage.
The face was hidden beneath a mask and cap.
The badge was fake.
The scrubs had been stolen from a laundry cart.
The syringe contained another sedative.
A stronger one.
Emily looked at Harris.
"They're trying again."
He didn't disagree.
We were moved to a secured floor under an alias.
Grace was discharged medically but remained with Emily in the protected room while police arranged temporary safety measures.
Brandon was in custody.
Nicole was cooperating.
Patricia claimed she had been home.
Victor Hale claimed attorney-client privilege regarding nearly everything.
So who had entered the hospital?
Rachel came to see us under police escort the next morning.
She looked exhausted.
"There's someone you need to meet."
A woman stepped in behind her.
She was thin, maybe thirty-five, with dark blond hair and a cautious expression.
Rachel said, "This is Allison Pierce."
Brandon's former fiancée.
Emily stared at her.
Allison's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not coming forward sooner."
She sat across from Emily.
Then she told us everything.
Ten years earlier, Brandon had been twenty-six.
Allison had loved him.
She had also believed Patricia adored her.
Until she discovered loans opened in her name.
When she confronted Brandon, he cried.
He promised he would fix everything.
Then strange things began happening.
Allison missed meetings she had written on her calendar.
She woke up exhausted.
She found bottles of wine in her apartment despite rarely drinking.
Once she woke up in her parked car outside a grocery store with no memory of driving there.
"Patricia told everyone I had anxiety."
Allison gave a bitter smile.
"Then depression. Then substance problems."
Emily held Grace tighter.
"Did they drug you?"
"I think so."
"Can you prove it?"
"No."
Allison looked at Rachel.
"But I can prove something else."
She removed an old phone from her bag.
"My father kept this."
On it was a voicemail Patricia left ten years ago.
Allison pressed play.
Patricia's voice filled the room.
Calm.
Controlled.
"If you continue making accusations against my son, we will make sure every person in your life understands how unstable you've become. Think carefully before you force us to protect ourselves."
Emily closed her eyes.
Allison continued.
"My father threatened legal action. Patricia offered money. He refused. Then he moved me to Arizona."
"Why didn't you report them?"
"I was ashamed."
"Of what they did to you?"
"Of what people believed."
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Because that was Patricia's real weapon.
Not medicine.
Not lawyers.
Shame.
If she could make a woman doubt herself—and make everyone else doubt her too—she could steal almost anything.
Money.
Credibility.
Children.
Freedom.
Allison looked at Emily.
"I heard about the car. I knew exactly what they were doing."
"Will you testify?"
"Yes."
Rachel reached into her bag.
"And Allison remembers Victor."
Allison nodded.
"He was at Patricia's house during some of the meetings about me."
Harris leaned forward.
"Did he ever speak directly with you?"
"Once."
"What did he say?"
Allison looked at him.
"He told me if I fought Brandon, no judge would trust an emotionally unstable woman."
Harris wrote it down.
Then another detective entered.
He whispered something to Harris.
Harris stood.
"We found the person who entered the hospital."
Everyone froze.
"Who?"
"A man named Curtis Dean."
Rachel gasped.
I looked at her.
"You know him?"
"He worked security for Patricia."
Harris continued.
"Former security. Officially."
"Where is he?"
"Police picked him up twenty minutes ago."
Relief moved through the room.
Briefly.
Then Harris added, "He says Patricia paid him."
Emily whispered, "Finally."
"But there's a condition."
"What?"
"Dean says he wants immunity on several unrelated charges before he'll testify."
I didn't care about his unrelated crimes.
If he could connect Patricia to the hospital, let him talk.
But then Harris said something unexpected.
"He also claims Patricia ordered him to frighten Thomas before the crash."
The room went cold.
"What does frighten mean?" I asked.
"He says he followed Thomas."
My voice shook.
"In the black Lincoln?"
"Yes."
"Did he damage the car?"
"He says no."
"Do you believe him?"
Harris didn't answer.
Dean claimed Patricia had wanted Thomas intimidated because he was investigating Red Fern.
He said Victor knew.
He said Brandon knew part of it.
But he denied touching the brakes.
"Then who did?"
Harris looked troubled.
"Dean says he doesn't know."
Daniel, who had been standing near the door, suddenly asked, "Did Dean mention Malcolm?"
Rachel dropped her coffee.
The cup hit the floor.
I stared at her.
"Who's Malcolm?"
She didn't answer.
"Rachel."
Her face had gone pale.
Daniel looked at her.
"You knew?"
Rachel whispered, "I thought he was dead."
"Who is Malcolm?"
Daniel turned to me.
"Patricia's younger brother."
I had never heard his name.
"In thirty years, she never mentioned having a brother."
"Because he went to prison."
"For what?"
Daniel held my gaze.
"Vehicle tampering."
No one spoke.
"He worked as a mechanic," Daniel continued. "He was convicted after disabling the brakes on a business partner's truck during a financial dispute."
My skin went cold.
"When did he get out?"
Daniel answered.
"Six months before Thomas died."
I looked at Rachel.
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know."
Then Allison whispered, "I do."
Everyone turned.
She looked terrified.
"I saw him two days ago."
"Where?"
"Outside Patricia's house."
Harris was already reaching for his phone.
But Allison wasn't finished.
"He wasn't alone."
"Who was with him?"
She hesitated.
"Nicole."
Emily stared at her.
"Nicole?"
Allison nodded.
"They were arguing."
"What about?"
"I couldn't hear everything."
"What did you hear?"
Allison looked directly at Emily.
"Nicole said, 'You told me nobody was supposed to die.'"
May you like
And Malcolm replied—
"That decision isn't yours anymore."
