Chapter 10 - The Witnesses’ Night
The first attempt came for Ethan Brooks.
He left the church at seven in the evening and found his car idling in the parking lot. The driver’s door was open. His medical bag sat on the passenger seat, though he had left it in the church basement.
Ethan called Noah instead of approaching the vehicle.
“Stay inside,” Noah said. “We’re coming.”
While they waited, the car’s headlights turned on by themselves.
The second attempt came for Marta.
Someone entered her apartment using a key copied from the landlord’s office. Nothing was stolen. Every photograph of her children had been removed from the walls and placed face down on the kitchen table.
The third came for Noah.
He was leaving the parking garage beneath Lila’s office when a black sedan rolled toward him without braking. Noah jumped behind a concrete pillar. The sedan struck the pillar, reversed, and disappeared.
He called Helena afterward.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“You sound like you’re bleeding.”
“I scraped my hand.”
“You are not fine.”
“I’m alive.”
“That is not the same thing.”
He was quiet.
“My sister was afraid before she died,” he said. “She kept telling me the clinic had made a mistake. I told her mistakes happened.”
Helena listened.
“I won’t make that mistake again,” Noah said.
They moved the witnesses to a hotel under state police protection. Celia stayed in the safe apartment with Marisol and Priya, whose medical license made Adrian’s retaliation more complicated but not impossible.
At midnight, Lila convened an emergency call with the board.
“Adrian’s attorneys are arguing that the witness incidents are unrelated,” she said. “They claim we are manufacturing danger to justify the freeze.”
“Can the board hold?” Helena asked.
“For now.”
“What does that mean?”
“Several investors want a settlement. They would reinstate Adrian if he agrees to step away from clinical operations.”
“He would still control the company.”
“Yes.”
“Then we need the ledger.”
Margot spoke for the first time. “The old clinic has a service entrance on the east side.”
“You’re not going there,” Lila said.
“I know the building.”
“You are a material witness.”
“I am also the only person who knows where the hidden room is.”
Helena looked at Celia. Her daughter sat beneath a blanket, one hand resting over the baby.
“I’m going,” Helena said.
“Absolutely not,” Celia replied.
“I’m not leaving you unprotected.”
“You think protection means walking into the place where he kept records of women he terrorized?”
“I think we need evidence.”
“Then let Noah go.”
“He nearly got hit tonight.”
“Send the police.”
“They need a warrant.”
“Get one.”
Helena heard the fear beneath Celia’s anger and recognized it because it lived in her own chest.
“You’re right,” she said. “We do this legally.”
They obtained the warrant at dawn. A state investigator accompanied them, along with two officers and a locksmith.
The old clinic smelled of dust and antiseptic. Posters of smiling mothers curled away from the walls. The reception desk still displayed a bronze plaque: Founded by Adrian Vale, M.D.
Margot led them through a corridor to a storage room. Behind a broken cabinet was a metal door.
The locksmith opened it.
Inside stood a red filing cabinet.
The top drawer was empty. The second held invoices. The third contained folders labeled with patient numbers.
Noah pulled one free.
“These are not complaints,” he said.
“What are they?” Helena asked.
He opened the folder.
Each page contained a patient’s name, appointment dates, and a column headed Resistance Response.
The entries were written in Adrian’s handwriting.
Denied pressure test. Became tearful. Husband contacted.
Questioned consent. Recommend isolation from family during delivery.
Threatened complaint. Monitor for instability.
Helena felt sick.
At the bottom of the drawer lay a red leather ledger.
May you like
Before Noah could reach it, the lights went out.
Somewhere in the dark, a door slammed.
