Chapter 15 - Room 614
I do not remember the drive back to the hospital.
I remember red lights.
I remember Ortiz shouting into her radio.
I remember calling Nia fourteen times.
No answer.
Room 614 was empty when we arrived.
The bed was unmade.
The monitor leads hung loose.
Her IV line had been capped.
No blood.
No struggle.
Which was almost worse.
On the pillow was a folded piece of paper.
Mom, a nurse said you sent her. I’m okay. We’re going downstairs for a scan.
Nia’s handwriting.
My knees almost buckled.
“What nurse?”
Hospital security pulled footage.
A woman in scrubs had entered the room wearing a mask and cap.
She used a valid badge.
She walked Nia to a wheelchair and took the service elevator down.
The face was mostly covered.
But Ortiz recognized the badge number.
It belonged to a nurse who had called in sick that morning.
Stolen identity.
The elevator footage showed them getting off at the basement loading dock.
Then nothing.
I turned on Ortiz.
“How does someone take a patient out of a hospital?”
“By making everyone think they belong there.”
Dr. Hale arrived, furious.
“Nia is still medically fragile. She needs vitamin K, repeat labs, monitoring.”
“How long can she go?”
He hesitated.
“That depends on whether she was exposed again.”
The world narrowed.
My phone rang.
Martin.
I answered without waiting.
“If you touch her—”
“Denise, please. Threats are exhausting.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“Safe.”
“You poisoned her.”
“I corrected a problem.”
My stomach turned.
“A problem?”
“The trust belonged to money I built.”
“You stole it.”
“Your first husband stole from me.”
“He documented your crimes.”
“Semantics.”
I wanted to reach through the phone and tear him apart.
“What do you want?”
“The card.”
“Police already copied it.”
“No, they copied what I allowed Andre to see.”
I froze.
“There’s another file.”
“What file?”
“The encrypted folder.”
I looked at Ortiz.
She mouthed, Keep him talking.
Martin continued.
“Bring the original card to the old ferry terminal at six.”
“And Nia?”
“You get her when I get the card.”
“How do I know she’s alive?”
A rustle.
Then Nia’s voice.
“Mom?”
I broke.
“Nia.”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Then she said quickly, “He has a red thermos.”
The line went dead.
Ortiz stared at me.
“What does that mean?”
I knew.
Nia and I had a rule from when she was little.
If you’re scared and can’t say where you are, describe one thing you can see.
I closed my eyes.
Red thermos.
Not a thermos.
May you like
A landmark.
I knew exactly where Martin had taken her.
