CAMERA SEVEN

The next morning, Elena asked Nurse Tessa whether the hospital recorded its hallways.

“Most public areas,” Tessa replied. “Not patient rooms.”

“Who manages the recordings?”

“Security.”

Tessa studied Elena’s face.

“Is someone bothering you?”

Elena hesitated.

Years of Daniel’s control had taught her that speaking the truth could be more dangerous than remaining silent.

But Tessa’s concern seemed genuine.

“My husband is trying to have me declared incapable.”

Tessa closed the room door.

“Are you in immediate danger?”

“I don’t know.”

That answer was enough.

Tessa introduced Elena to Luis Mendoza, the hospital’s senior security officer. Luis had worked at St. Catherine’s for thirty-one years and knew every camera, stairwell, and service corridor in the building.

Elena showed him the documents Nathan had copied for her.

Luis read Daniel’s name and frowned.

“Mr. Mercer came to the security office two days ago,” he said.

“Why?”

“He said you were emotionally unstable and might try to leave without authorization. He wanted us to notify him if you entered the lobby.”

“Did he have the right to request that?”

“No.”

Luis explained that several cameras had recently been marked for replacement because of supposed technical failures. Daniel, as a representative of the Mercer Foundation, had repeatedly asked which cameras were still recording.

“One of them is above the short staircase in the lobby,” Luis said. “Camera Seven.”

“Does it work?”

Luis looked toward the doorway before answering.

“It works better than Mr. Mercer thinks.”

Together, they formed a plan.

Elena would pretend she knew nothing about the trust audit. Nathan would deliver the original envelope on her birthday, when Elena officially received control.

Luis would preserve security footage from all public areas.

Tessa would document every attempt Daniel made to interfere with Elena’s treatment.

They only needed Daniel and Margaret to believe Elena was still powerless.

It was a dangerous plan.