Chapter 3 - The Sixth Floor
Damian moved before anyone else.
"Lock the elevators."
Crowe stared at him.
"We have patients."
"Then use the stairs for emergency staff."
"You cannot—"
"Someone who helped steal three infants is in your hospital right now."
Crowe went silent.
That did it.
Within minutes, internal security shut the sixth-floor elevators under the excuse of a technical failure.
Damian's men covered both stairwells.
Noelle stood in the records office feeling the walls close around her.
Someone was here.
Someone who knew she was alive.
Someone who had accessed her chart seconds after she arrived.
"Could they delete it?"
she asked.
The clerk shook her head.
"Not completely."
"Could they change it?"
"They already did."
Noelle looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
The clerk turned the monitor.
Fields filled the screen.
NOELLE BISHOP.
ADMISSION: APRIL 16.
DELIVERY: APRIL 17.
DISCHARGE STATUS: DECEASED.
CAUSE: POSTOPERATIVE CARDIAC ARREST.
Noelle touched the screen.
Her own death.
Typed into a database.
Official.
Neat.
Clean.
"They killed me on paper."
Nobody answered.
She scrolled.
INFANTS A, B, C.
TRANSFERRED TO NEONATAL PATHOLOGY.
Noelle's eyes burned.
"Pathology?"
Crowe's face had gone gray.
"That would indicate—"
"I know what it indicates."
Noelle clicked the next section.
All three infant record numbers had been removed.
Not marked deceased.
Removed.
Damian leaned over her shoulder.
"Can those numbers be recovered?"
The clerk nodded slowly.
"From system backups."
"Do it."
Crowe turned sharply.
"You don't have authority."
Noelle looked at her.
"I do."
Crowe closed her mouth.
Noelle placed both palms on the desk.
"Recover everything."
The clerk started working.
Reyes entered.
"No one has left the floor."
Damian's gaze sharpened.
"How many people are here?"
"Thirty-two staff."
"Check everyone."
"Already started."
Noelle turned.
"What about patients?"
"Seventeen."
"Visitors?"
"Nine."
"You're going room to room?"
Reyes nodded.
Noelle suddenly remembered something.
"Supply corridor."
Everyone looked at her.
"What?"
Damian asked.
"There's a service corridor behind the old nursery."
Crowe frowned.
"That area was sealed during renovation."
"No."
Noelle shook her head.
"There's an elevator."
Crowe looked surprised.
"How do you know?"
Noelle's mouth went dry.
"Because that's where they took me."
The memory arrived whole.
Not a dream.
Not anesthesia.
A hallway.
Dim lights.
A wheel squeaking beneath her bed.
She had been half-conscious.
A woman speaking.
Not to her.
Move her downstairs before she wakes again.
Noelle grabbed the desk.
Damian caught her elbow.
"What do you remember?"
"A freight elevator."
Crowe shook her head.
"That hasn't been operational in years."
"It was fourteen months ago."
Damian looked at Reyes.
"Find it."
They moved through the corridor.
Noelle led them.
Past room 612.
Past the nurses' station.
Past a set of double doors marked STAFF ONLY.
Crowe used her badge.
Behind the doors, construction plastic covered one wall.
Noelle stopped.
"There."
A narrow door.
Painted over.
Crowe stared.
"That's not on the current floor plan."
Damian looked at one of his men.
"Open it."
The man wedged a steel tool into the seam.
The lock cracked.
The door swung inward.
Darkness.
A stairwell smell came out.
Dust.
Metal.
Old disinfectant.
Noelle's skin crawled.
Reyes found the light switch.
One fluorescent tube flickered.
At the end of the corridor stood an old service elevator.
Noelle couldn't move.
She remembered the ceiling passing over her.
She remembered being unable to lift her arms.
She remembered voices.
Three survived.
All of them?
All three.
Keep your voice down.
What about the mother?
Hale will handle it.
Noelle whispered.
"Oh my God."
Damian turned to her.
"What?"
She looked at him.
"I heard his name."
"Whose?"
"Hale."
The corridor seemed to narrow.
"I thought it was a dream."
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
"I heard someone say Hale would handle the mother."
Damian's expression became murderous.
Crowe backed toward the wall.
"Noelle."
His voice softened.
"Anything else?"
She closed her eyes.
A silver butterfly.
Rubber soles.
A man's cologne.
A woman's voice saying—
Crane wants the blood sample repeated.
Noelle opened her eyes.
"Dr. Crane."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"She was there?"
"I don't know."
"I heard her name."
Reyes checked his phone.
"Dr. Evelyn Crane resigned from St. Catherine's seven months ago."
"Where is she now?"
"Private women's clinic in Evanston."
"Send men."
Noelle grabbed Damian's sleeve.
"No."
He looked at her hand.
She released him.
"Don't scare her away."
Damian's gaze returned to her face.
"What do you suggest?"
Noelle surprised herself.
"We make her think we know less than we do."
For one second, Damian looked almost impressed.
Then a crash sounded from behind them.
Everyone spun.
The supply-room door slammed.
Reyes ran.
Damian pulled Noelle behind him.
A man burst into the corridor wearing blue scrubs.
He shoved a cart toward Reyes and sprinted for the service stairwell.
"Stop!"
Reyes vaulted the cart.
The man reached into his pocket.
Damian moved faster than Noelle expected.
He pushed her against the wall.
"Down."
A syringe flashed in the man's hand.
Reyes caught his wrist.
They hit the floor.
The syringe skidded across the tiles.
One of Damian's men pinned the stranger face-down.
Noelle stared.
The man was young.
Maybe thirty.
Hospital badge.
MICHAEL TANNER.
PHLEBOTOMY.
Reyes twisted his arm behind him.
"Who sent you?"
Tanner gasped.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Damian picked up the syringe with a handkerchief.
Clear liquid.
No label.
He crouched.
"What were you planning to do with this?"
Tanner looked away.
Damian's voice became almost gentle.
"Michael."
The young man's face tightened.
"You have two choices."
Noelle stepped forward.
"No."
Damian looked up.
"No torture."
Tanner's eyes widened.
Damian stood.
"I wasn't going to torture him."
Reyes raised an eyebrow.
Damian ignored him.
Noelle crouched near Tanner.
"You accessed my file?"
"No."
She studied his face.
"Do you have children?"
His expression flickered.
"Don't."
"Do you?"
"One."
"A boy?"
Tanner stared at the floor.
"Girl."
Noelle's voice shook.
"Imagine waking up after giving birth and someone tells you your daughter died."
Tanner squeezed his eyes shut.
"Imagine fourteen months later you see her alive."
His breathing changed.
"Imagine finding out someone made you legally dead."
"Stop."
"You know something."
"I don't."
"Then look at me."
He didn't.
Noelle's voice cracked.
"Look at me."
Tanner lifted his head.
There were tears in his eyes.
"I didn't take your babies."
"Who did?"
"I didn't."
"Who did?"
"I just changed data."
Silence.
Crowe whispered.
"Oh God."
Noelle leaned closer.
"Who paid you?"
Tanner shook his head.
"No names."
Damian spoke.
"How much?"
Tanner swallowed.
"Ten thousand."
"For what?"
"To flag your file if anybody accessed it."
Noelle's stomach twisted.
"That's why they knew I came here."
Tanner nodded.
"Who gets the alert?"
"I don't know."
"How?"
"Encrypted email."
Reyes pulled out his phone.
"Address?"
Tanner hesitated.
Damian took one step toward him.
Noelle didn't stop him this time.
Tanner blurted it out.
Reyes copied it.
"What was in the syringe?"
Damian asked.
Tanner looked terrified.
"I don't know."
"That's the wrong answer."
"I swear."
His voice rose.
"It was in my locker."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"With instructions?"
Tanner nodded.
Noelle felt ice crawl down her spine.
"What instructions?"
Tanner stared at her.
"Find Bishop."
Noelle's pulse thudded.
"And?"
He began shaking.
"Inject her."
"With what?"
"I told you, I don't know."
Damian's face became deadly.
"Where's your locker?"
Two men escorted Tanner away.
Noelle sank against the wall.
Damian stood beside her.
Neither spoke.
A minute later Reyes returned carrying a small envelope.
He held it with gloves.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
Three words.
SHE STAYS DEAD.
Noelle read it twice.
Damian read it once.
Then his phone rang.
Reyes answered.
His face tightened.
"What?"
Damian asked.
Reyes slowly lowered the phone.
"Men reached Dr. Crane's clinic."
"And?"
"She's gone."
Noelle shut her eyes.
"How long?"
"Staff says three hours."
Damian cursed.
"But they found something in her office."
Reyes opened an image on his phone.
It showed a locked cabinet.
Inside were dozens of folders.
Each had a woman's name.
Noelle's was near the top.
But hers was not the only one.
She stared at the rows.
"What are those?"
Reyes enlarged the photograph.
Dates.
Hospital numbers.
Pregnancy status.
Multiple births.
Women with no listed next of kin.
Damian went perfectly still.
Noelle looked at him.
"This wasn't just me."
"No."
Her stomach turned.
"How many?"
Reyes's voice was grim.
"At least twenty-seven."
Noelle looked back at the old elevator.
Three babies had been stolen from her.
But suddenly the horror was bigger than three.
Somewhere, there might be mothers who still believed their children were dead.
Somewhere, there might be children living under names that had never belonged to them.
Then Reyes's phone buzzed again.
He opened the newest photograph.
This time it wasn't a hospital file.
It was Noelle.
Leaving Rosalie's three nights earlier.
Taken from across the street.
Another photograph.
Noelle entering her apartment building.
Another.
Noelle buying groceries.
Another.
Noelle asleep beside her living room window.
Photographed from the fire escape.
Her blood ran cold.
Damian looked at the final image.
A red circle had been drawn around Noelle's head.
May you like
Underneath it, someone had written a date.
Tomorrow.
