Chapter 1 - What Was on the Card
Margaret Prescott’s hand stopped inches from mine.
For the first time since I had entered Mercy General, the woman who had spent years speaking to judges, donors, television anchors, and police chiefs as though they were employees looked genuinely afraid.
I closed my fingers around the memory card.
“No,” I said quietly. “You don't get this.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Victoria, this is getting out of hand.”
I glanced at him. “You haven't earned the right to use my first name.”
His jaw tightened.
Brandon laughed nervously. “You're making a mistake.”
“Maybe.”
I turned toward Emily.
She was still trembling.
“Did anyone see you take this?”
She swallowed. “No. I hid it inside my bra.”
Margaret's face drained of color.
That tiny reaction told me more than Emily's words.
I looked at the hospital door.
“Everyone stays where they are.”
Brandon scoffed. “You can't order us around.”
“I don't need to.”
My phone vibrated.
The number on the screen was the man I had spoken to less than a minute earlier.
Colonel James Mercer.
“Put him on speaker,” Emily whispered.
I did.
Mercer spoke immediately.
“Colonel Hart, are you secure?”
“Not yet.”
“Then listen carefully. Do not let the Prescott family leave the room. Do not surrender the device or card to anyone claiming to be local law enforcement unless they identify themselves through my office.”
Margaret recovered enough to speak.
“This is absurd. We have lawyers.”
Mercer answered before I could.
“And we've already interviewed two of them.”
Silence.
Ethan stared at his mother.
“What does that mean?”
Mercer continued.
“The federal inquiry into Prescott Holdings is no longer limited to financial fraud.”
Brandon's face changed.
“That's impossible.”
“No,” Mercer said. “What's impossible is how long you've managed to convince people that every woman who speaks against your family is unstable.”
Emily made a small sound.
I squeezed her hand.
Mercer lowered his voice.
“Colonel, the card may contain evidence connecting the domestic violence complaint to an investigation already underway.”
“What investigation?”
“I can't discuss it on an unsecured line.”
Margaret stepped toward me again.
“Don't listen to him. This is a setup.”
I looked at her.
“You just tried to take evidence from my injured daughter.”
“She is confused.”
Emily's eyes flashed.
“I am not confused.”
Margaret turned toward her.
“You don't know what you're saying.”
Emily's voice shook, but it was clear.
“I know exactly what happened.”
The door opened.
A man in a gray suit stepped inside.
He was broad-shouldered, maybe fifty, with silver hair and an expression too calm for a hospital room filled with this much tension.
“Colonel Hart?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel Reyes. FBI.”
Margaret immediately pointed toward him.
“There. You see? This is harassment.”
Reyes ignored her.
He held up a badge.
“I need everyone to remain calm.”
Brandon snorted.
“You people think a badge gives you unlimited power.”
Reyes looked at him.
“No. Evidence does.”
That shut him up.
Reyes turned to me.
“May I see the card?”
I held it up.
He didn't reach for it.
Instead, he said, “Don't hand it to me.”
That caught my attention.
“Why?”
“Because I don't know if it contains more than data.”
I frowned.
Reyes pulled a small evidence pouch from his pocket.
“Place it inside without touching the contacts.”
I did.
He sealed it.
Then he looked at Emily.
“Mrs. Prescott, before we do anything else, I need to ask you a question.”
Emily nodded.
“Did you make this recording?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The house.”
“When?”
She glanced at Ethan.
His expression told me he knew exactly what she meant.
“Last night.”
Reyes's jaw tightened.
“Was someone else present?”
Emily nodded.
“Who?”
Her lips parted.
Before she could answer, the hallway erupted with shouting.
A nurse ran past the doorway.
Then another.
A male voice shouted, “Police! Step away from the patient!”
Reyes immediately moved between Emily's bed and the door.
“Don't open it.”
I heard heavy footsteps.
Then Detective Laura Gaines entered with two uniformed Charlotte officers.
“Everyone stay where you are.”
Reyes stepped forward.
“Detective Gaines.”
She looked at him.
“Agent Reyes.”
Her smile was polite.
Too polite.
“I was notified about an assault involving Emily Prescott.”
Reyes stared at her.
“By whom?”
“Hospital administration.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“Who authorized you to come here?”
Gaines glanced at me.
“I have a warrant.”
She reached inside her coat.
Reyes stopped her.
“Don't.”
The detective froze.
“For what?”
“Your warrant.”
Gaines looked confused.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know who signed it.”
She produced a paper.
Reyes read it.
His face changed.
“Colonel.”
I stepped closer.
“What?”
He handed me the paper.
The signature was from Judge Alan Whitmore.
I recognized the name.
Margaret Prescott had mentioned him on the news countless times.
My stomach turned.
Reyes spoke quietly.
“This judge wasn't supposed to be handling Prescott-related matters.”
Gaines folded her arms.
“You're obstructing a lawful investigation.”
Reyes didn't look at her.
“Colonel, remember what I said.”
“About local law enforcement?”
He nodded.
“Do not trust anyone unless we've verified them.”
Gaines looked at him.
“You're making a serious accusation.”
“No,” Reyes said. “I'm making a procedural objection.”
My phone buzzed again.
A text message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
One sentence.
YOUR DAUGHTER DIDN'T STEAL THAT CARD. SOMEONE WANTED HER TO FIND IT.
I stared at the screen.
Emily saw my face.
“What is it?”
I didn't answer.
Another message arrived.
THERE IS A SECOND RECORDING. ASK HER ABOUT THE BLUE ROOM.
I looked up.
“Emily.”
She went pale.
“What?”
“What is the blue room?”
Her breathing stopped.
Ethan whispered, “Don't.”
Emily turned toward me.
And for the first time since I entered the hospital, I saw something in my daughter's eyes that was more frightening than pain.
Recognition.
“The blue room,” she whispered, “is where Margaret keeps the people she doesn't want anyone to find.”
The hospital seemed to go silent.
Reyes stared at her.
“How many people?”
Emily shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“What happened to them?”
She looked at Ethan.
May you like
Then back at me.
“I think they never left.”
