Chapter 9 - The Call That Should Not Exist
Rosa remembered every word.
"She said, 'Don't tell Dominic. Not yet. They're listening.'"
Dominic stared at her with a fury so controlled it was almost worse than shouting.
"You kept that from me for two years?"
"I thought it was a trap."
"You thought my wife might be alive and said nothing?"
Rosa stood despite the blood on her face.
"She gave me a phrase only Sofia knew. Something she said the night Emma stopped breathing in the hospital."
Dominic's anger disappeared.
"What phrase?"
Rosa whispered, "Three stars, one sky."
Dominic sat down.
Hannah had never seen a powerful man look so broken.
"That was hers," he said. "She said it every time the girls were separated for tests."
Rosa nodded. "The caller said she couldn't come home. She said Sebastian controlled the doctors around her. Then the line cut."
Vincent leaned forward. "Do you still have the number?"
"I wrote it down."
The number traced to a private medical communications service in Connecticut.
By dawn, Vincent had a list of facilities that used it during the year of Sofia's crash.
One name stood out.
Saint Arden Neurological Recovery Center.
Dominic knew it.
"My uncle donated the west wing."
Hannah laughed without humor. "Of course he did."
Dominic ignored the insult because she was right.
They drove north in two SUVs.
Halfway to Connecticut, Vincent's analyst called.
"We found something else. Sebastian's foundation paid Saint Arden almost four million dollars over two years."
"For what?" Dominic asked.
"A private patient program. Names sealed."
Hannah looked out the rain-streaked window.
"So we unseal them."
Dominic's mouth tightened. "Legally?"
She turned to him. "That word matters to you now?"
For a second, the corner of his mouth moved.
"More than it used to."
At Saint Arden, the administrator denied everything.
"We have never treated a Sofia Vale."
Dominic placed a photograph on the desk.
"Look carefully."
The administrator did.
His left eye twitched.
Hannah saw it.
"You know her."
"I don't."
Vincent stepped forward.
Dominic lifted one hand.
"No threats. Not here."
Then Hannah noticed a whiteboard through the office glass.
Patient transport schedule.
Initials only.
One line read:
S.M. - Cedar House - Friday 6:00 A.M.
Today was Friday.
Hannah pointed.
The administrator turned too late.
Dominic was already on his feet.
"Where is Cedar House?"
The man went pale.
"Mr. Vale, I strongly advise you to leave."
Dominic leaned across the desk.
"My wife may have been imprisoned under your roof for two years. Advice is no longer useful."
The administrator stared at him.
Then at Hannah.
Finally he whispered, "She's not here anymore."
"Where did she go?"
A distant engine roared outside.
May you like
The administrator looked toward the window.
"You just missed her."
