Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN DEAD FOR TWENTY-TWO YEARS
They returned to Chicago before sunrise.
Not through the main roads.
Not in the black sedan.
Gabriel used three different vehicles and two abandoned service tunnels to reach Mercy.
Laya sat beside him in silence.
Her entire childhood had become uncertain.
Every memory had acquired a question mark.
The funeral.
The photographs.
Her mother's voice.
The last hug.
The coffin.
All of it.
Could a child misremember something that important?
Could an adult bury a truth so completely that grief itself became part of the deception?
When they reached the hospital, Gabriel looked at her.
“You don't have to go inside.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You don't know what's waiting.”
“I've spent my entire life waiting.”
He nodded.
They entered through an underground loading area.
Elias stayed behind.
Dominic led them.
The hospital was strangely quiet.
Too quiet.
Laya recognized every corridor.
The same elevators.
The same smell.
The same vending machines.
The same fluorescent lights that had irritated her hours earlier.
Except now she knew that the building held secrets older than her career.
They reached the old surgical archive.
Dominic opened the door.
Rows of boxes.
Patient records.
Old administrative files.
Laya searched for Helena Hastings.
Nothing.
Gabriel found a metal cabinet.
Locked.
He looked at Laya.
“Your mother worked here.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where nurses kept personal belongings?”
“Locker room.”
They went downstairs.
Laya found an old row of lockers.
Most had been replaced.
One remained.
Number 214.
She touched the metal.
Her mother's initials were scratched into the paint.
H.H.
Her hands shook.
Gabriel stood behind her.
“Open it.”
“I don't have a key.”
Elias's voice came through the radio.
“Try the locket.”
Laya froze.
She removed the silver locket from around her neck.
The key from the piano fit.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a folded nurse's uniform.
A photograph.
And a cassette tape.
Laya stared.
“Who still uses cassette tapes?”
“People who don't want digital records,” Gabriel said.
They found an old player in the archive.
Laya pressed play.
Static.
Then her mother's voice.
“Laya.”
Laya's knees weakened.
She grabbed the table.
The recording continued.
“If you're hearing this, I failed to protect you.”
Tears filled Laya's eyes.
“I know they told you I died. I know you saw a coffin. I know you remember the funeral.”
She covered her mouth.
“But that was not me.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Her mother's voice continued.
“Your father never knew the truth.”
Laya looked at Gabriel.
“My father?”
“Yes,” Gabriel whispered.
Her mother spoke again.
“You were born because I believed one day this would end.”
The recording crackled.
“The ledger contains names, but names are not enough. There is evidence beneath Mercy. A room built during the original construction. A room only four people knew existed.”
Laya listened.
“Gabriel's father knew.”
A pause.
“I knew.”
Another pause.
“And Arthur Pendleton knew.”
Laya closed her eyes.
“But the fourth person was a child.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Who?”
The tape answered.
“Gabriel.”
Silence.
Laya stared at him.
“He was sixteen.”
“Yes,” her mother's voice continued. “He was the only one I trusted to protect the location if I disappeared.”
Gabriel's face went pale.
“I forgot.”
“You didn't forget,” Laya whispered.
He looked at her.
“You survived.”
The recording continued.
“Gabriel, if you're listening, you failed me once.”
His expression tightened.
“But you can still save her.”
The tape ended.
No explanation.
No location.
Only static.
Laya looked at Gabriel.
“What did you do?”
He seemed lost.
“I don't remember.”
“You were sixteen.”
“I remember the room.”
“What room?”
“A basement.”
“Where?”
“Under the old surgical wing.”
They moved.
Fast.
They found a sealed corridor beneath the oldest part of the hospital.
A wall had been built over an old doorway.
Laya recognized the architecture.
“Here.”
Gabriel touched the wall.
His fingers stopped at a small indentation.
A keyhole.
Laya removed the locket.
It opened.
The wall shifted.
Behind it was a narrow room.
Dust covered everything.
There were boxes.
Photographs.
Documents.
And a woman sitting in a chair.
Laya stopped breathing.
The woman looked older.
Her hair was streaked with gray.
Her face was thinner.
But the green eyes were unmistakable.
Laya whispered one word.
“Mom?”
The woman looked up.
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then Helena Hastings stood.
She pressed one trembling hand against her mouth.
“My God.”
Laya stepped forward.
“You're alive.”
Helena's eyes filled with tears.
“I tried to come back.”
“You lied to me.”
“I protected you.”
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe I was alone.”
Helena cried silently.
“I thought if you hated me, you might survive me.”
Laya shook her head.
“I don't understand.”
Helena looked at Gabriel.
Then at the ledger.
Then back at her daughter.
“They found us.”
A sound echoed in the corridor.
Boots.
Many boots.
Gabriel reached for his weapon.
Helena's face changed.
“They're here.”
Laya looked at her.
“Who?”
Helena whispered.
“Everyone.”
The lights went out.
Emergency sirens began.
And a voice came over the hospital intercom.
“Dr. Hastings, this is Dr. Pendleton.”
Laya's heart sank.
“Bring me your mother.”
Gabriel stepped in front of her.
Pendleton continued.
“Or I will start killing patients.”
Helena grabbed Laya's hand.
“Don't.”
Laya looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because he knows exactly what you will do.”
Gabriel looked toward the door.
“Then we'll do the opposite.”
Helena shook her head.
“You still think you're the one he wants.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“He isn't after the ledger.”
“Then what?”
Helena stared at Laya.
“He is after her blood.”
Laya froze.
“What?”
Helena's voice broke.
“Your father was not who you think he was.”
A gunshot exploded through the corridor.
Then another.
Helena pulled Laya toward the hidden room.
“Close the door.”
Gabriel raised his weapon.
“I'll hold them.”
Laya grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I've already lost enough people.”
“You don't get to die for me.”
His eyes softened.
“Laya.”
She stared at him.
“I mean it.”
For one impossible second, the gunfire seemed far away.
Then Helena shouted.
“Behind you!”
A figure appeared in the doorway.
Laya turned.
It was Pendleton.
He smiled.
And he was holding a photograph of her biological father.
Gabriel opened the file.
A video appeared.
Helena, younger.
Victor.
Pendleton.
And Gabriel's father.
They stood around a hospital bed.
On the bed was a newborn.
Laya.
Gabriel stared.
“I was there.”
Helena nodded.
“You were sixteen.”
The video continued.
Gabriel's father spoke.
“The sick girl stays.”
Pendleton asked, “And the other?”
“Erase her.”
Laya covered her mouth.
Gabriel's face hardened.
His younger self looked terrified.
Then Helena stepped forward.
“You can't.”
Gabriel's father turned.
“You have no authority here.”
“She is my daughter.”
“She is a Mercer.”
“No.”
Victor stepped into the frame.
“She is my daughter.”
The room went silent.
Laya stared.
Her father.
Alive in the recording.
Her mother.
Gabriel.
All standing around her.
Then Gabriel's father gave an order.
“Take the healthy child.”
A nurse carried Lena away.
Laya began crying.
“They took her.”
“Yes,” Helena whispered.
Gabriel looked sick.
“I didn't stop them.”
“You tried.”
“I failed.”
“You were a child.”
The video changed.
Eleven years later.
Gabriel, now twenty-seven, entered the same room.
He was carrying a gun.
He confronted Pendleton.
“You lied to me.”
Pendleton laughed.
“You believed what you needed to believe.”
Gabriel raised the gun.
“What happened to the girl?”
Pendleton said:
“She died.”
Gabriel lowered the weapon.
The video ended.
Laya looked at him.
“You thought she was dead.”
“Yes.”
“And you never knew.”
“No.”
“Until now.”
“Yes.”
A sound came from the servers.
Someone was accessing the system remotely.
Elias checked the screen.
“Pendleton.”
Gabriel stood.
“Can you stop him?”
“Maybe.”
Laya looked at the screen.
“What does he want?”
“He's deleting files.”
“Can you stop the deletion?”
Elias nodded.
“With the administrator account.”
Gabriel moved to the keyboard.
Laya placed her hand over his.
“Don't.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Don't become him.”
Gabriel understood.
He removed his hand.
Laya sat.
She began saving the evidence to a separate drive.
Names.
Records.
Videos.
Bank accounts.
Medical files.
Everything.
Then a message appeared.
HELLO, LAYA.
She froze.
Another message:
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD.
Laya stared at the screen.
“It's Lena.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“No.”
A video opened.
Lena appeared.
Behind her was a man.
Pendleton.
Laya's heart stopped.
But Pendleton wasn't holding a weapon.
He was standing beside a hospital bed.
On the bed was a child.
A little girl.
Laya whispered:
“Who is that?”
Lena smiled.
“Your niece.”
Gabriel went pale.
“What?”
Lena looked at the camera.
“Come alone, sister.”
The screen went black.
And the archive doors locked.
Laya stared at Pendleton.
“You've been watching my family for decades.”
“Yes.”
“And you still think you can control us.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“I think you will control yourselves.”
The words unsettled her.
Gabriel moved closer.
“Why did you bring the photograph?”
Pendleton lifted it.
“Because your mother left it behind.”
Helena stepped forward.
“That photograph was stolen.”
Pendleton looked at her.
“Everything in this room was stolen.”
Laya looked between them.
“Then tell me what happened to Lena.”
Pendleton's expression became cold.
“She survived.”
“Where is she?”
“Closer than you think.”
A phone rang in the archive.
Everyone froze.
Laya answered.
A child's voice whispered:
“Mommy?”
Lena's face appeared on the screen.
She was crying.
“Laya, don't trust him.”
“Where are you?”
“I don't know.”
“Is the baby with you?”
“No.”
Laya's heart stopped.
“Where is she?”
Lena looked toward someone off camera.
Then the call ended.
Gabriel grabbed the phone.
The location was hidden.
But the final frame had been captured.
A hospital sign.
New York.
Laya looked at Gabriel.
“We're going there.”
He nodded.
But Helena grabbed her arm.
“No.”
“Why?”
May you like
“Because New York is where they took Lena.”
“And that's where we're going to bring her home.”
