Chapter 12 - The Room Where Elena Died
Police surrounded St. Helena, but the hospital had become chaos.
The release of the archive changed everything.
Parents arrived demanding access.
Reporters blocked the entrance.
Doctors deleted files.
Board members denied knowledge.
Federal agents seized servers while local officers argued over jurisdiction.
No one noticed a black ambulance entering through the rear gate.
Claire guided us by radio.
“The psychiatric wing was sealed twelve years ago. Use the west stairwell.”
Valentina and I ran through dark corridors.
The old wing smelled of mildew and abandoned medicine. Patient names had been removed from the doors, leaving pale rectangles on the walls.
Eva’s camera signal came from Room 17.
The same number connected to Valentina.
E-17.
The door required a six-digit code.
Claire searched the archive remotely.
“I do not have it.”
Gas hissed behind the wall.
I fired at the lock.
The reinforced door barely moved.
Valentina looked through the small window.
Eva lay motionless on the floor.
“No.”
She struck the door with both hands.
“Eva!”
The child could not hear her.
I searched the frame.
My mother had been held here. If Elena created escape protocols, perhaps she had left another path.
A scratched message appeared beneath the paint near the floor.
LOVE CHOOSES.
Below it were six numbers.
The dates of my birth and Matteo’s birth combined.
I entered them.
The lock released.
Valentina rushed inside and lifted Eva.
I closed the gas valve while Claire instructed us to open the windows.
Eva’s skin was pale.
Her breathing was shallow.
Valentina placed her on the bed and began rescue breaths.
I had seen my wife frightened, angry, and grieving.
I had never seen her refuse death with such force.
“Come back,” she whispered between breaths. “You do not know me yet, but I am your mother. Come back and be angry with me. Come back and ask where I was. Come back and let me spend the rest of my life answering.”
Eva coughed.
Air entered her lungs.
Valentina pulled her close.
The girl opened her eyes.
She saw strangers.
Fear filled her face.
Valentina remembered she could not hear.
Slowly, she formed a sign.
I did not understand it.
Eva did.
Her expression changed.
“What did you say?” I asked.
Valentina’s eyes remained on our daughter.
“I said, ‘You are safe.’”
Eva touched Valentina’s face.
Then she looked at me.
I knew no sign language.
So I placed my hand over my heart and pointed to her.
She watched carefully.
After a moment, she repeated the motion.
My knees almost failed me.
Claire’s voice returned.
“You need to leave. Voss is heading toward the river helipad.”
“Matteo?”
“No contact.”
Valentina held Eva.
“You go.”
“I am not leaving you.”
“Dominic, he will keep coming.”
Federal agents entered the corridor behind us.
Natalie Cho led them.
She saw Eva and understood.
“We will protect them,” she said.
I did not trust easily anymore.
But Natalie’s stolen son was now sleeping safely beside mine. She had become part of the same war.
I kissed Valentina’s forehead.
“Stay with her.”
“Bring Matteo home.”
I left with Natalie and six agents.
At the river helipad, Voss’s helicopter was preparing to lift.
Anthony’s armored truck had crashed through the perimeter fence.
Matteo’s vehicle burned near the trees.
I found Anthony bleeding beside the road.
“Where is he?”
Anthony pointed toward the helipad.
Matteo stood between Voss and the helicopter.
One hand pressed against his wounded side.
The other held a gun.
Rebecca stood near the aircraft with her hands bound.
Voss held a blade against her throat.
History repeated itself.
A son.
A mother.
A man using love as a weapon.
“You cannot save her,” Voss told Matteo.
“Maybe not.”
“Then lower the gun.”
“No.”
Rebecca looked at her son.
“Matteo.”
He did not move.
Voss tightened the blade.
“You already failed her once.”
Matteo’s voice remained steady.
“She never asked me to become a good man.”
Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.
“But my brother did.”
Voss saw me approaching.
He dragged Rebecca toward the helicopter.
Agents spread out.
“No closer!”
The rotor blades accelerated.
Voss shouted over the noise.
“I have copies of the archive. Arrest me and every name will be sold.”
“The archive is public,” Natalie said. “You have nothing left.”
“I have identities. Locations. Children who do not know who they are.”
“You will never reach them,” I said.
Voss laughed.
“You still think this ends with one building?”
“No. It ends with people no longer afraid of you.”
Rebecca drove her heel backward into his knee.
Voss stumbled.
Matteo fired.
The bullet struck Voss’s hand, knocking away the knife.
Rebecca ran.
Voss seized her coat and pulled her toward the helicopter.
I reached them.
He struck me with the wounded hand and drew a second pistol.
Matteo threw himself forward.
The gun fired.
Rebecca screamed.
Voss fell backward through the open helicopter door.
His jacket caught on the landing rail.
For a second, he hung above the riverbank.
I could have grabbed him.
He looked up at me.
“You are no different from Salvatore.”
I reached down.
Not to save him from justice.
To prove he was wrong.
Voss raised the pistol.
Matteo shot the landing rail.
The metal broke.
Voss fell into the river.
The current pulled him beneath the helicopter’s shadow.
Agents searched the water.
They found blood.
They found his pistol.
They did not find his body.
Matteo collapsed.
The bullet meant for Rebecca had entered his abdomen.
Mercer arrived in the medical helicopter ten minutes later.
He examined Matteo and looked at me.
“The damage is severe.”
“Save him.”
“I will try.”
Matteo’s eyes opened as they lifted him onto the stretcher.
“Dominic.”
“I am here.”
“Did you find her?”
“Yes.”
“Your daughter?”
“Yes.”
A faint smile appeared.
“Then you have an heir.”
I gripped his hand.
“I have a brother.”
The helicopter carried him away.
Behind us, agents continued searching the river.
A piece of Voss’s coat floated near the shore.
Inside the pocket, they found a train ticket to Montreal.
Dated tomorrow.
Whether Adrian Voss was alive or dead, someone had prepared an escape for him.
May you like
And the name printed on the ticket was not Voss.
It was Samuel Mercer.
