Chapter 7 - ROOM 417
Rosewood Haven stood behind pine trees and twelve-foot walls.
From the highway, it resembled a private university campus. Stone buildings surrounded landscaped courtyards. White vans moved through guarded gates.
No sign indicated that people entered and never left.
Naomi obtained clothing from the hunting cabin’s emergency chest. Marianne changed into a gray sweater and work pants. Lillian wore Naomi’s coat over the patient gown.
“We cannot walk through the front gate,” Naomi said.
Lillian drew a map on the back of an old newspaper.
“There is a delivery tunnel beneath the laundry building.”
“How did you escape?”
“The nurse opened a service elevator.”
“Rebecca?”
Lillian nodded.
“Where is Room 417?”
“Below the east wing.”
Naomi studied the map.
“There are only three floors.”
“Not above ground.”
Marianne looked at the brass key.
“What does Derek want with Thomas’s body?”
Lillian’s hands began to shake.
“Patient transfers happen on Fridays. Those who are moved below do not return.”
It was Friday.
They left Lillian with a retired pastor Naomi trusted, then drove toward Rosewood in a delivery truck borrowed from his church.
Naomi wore a maintenance jacket. Marianne sat beside her beneath a baseball cap.
At the service entrance, a guard checked the truck’s paperwork.
“Boiler repair?”
Naomi handed him forged documents Mercer had prepared months earlier.
The guard made a call.
Marianne’s pulse hammered.
After a long pause, the barrier lifted.
They parked beside the laundry building and entered through a loading bay.
Industrial dryers filled the air with heat and noise. Workers moved carts of white sheets without looking at one another.
Lillian’s map led them behind a chemical storage room.
Naomi found a steel door concealed by stacked detergent containers.
The brass key opened it.
Beyond lay a concrete stairwell descending underground.
The hospital smell grew stronger with each step.
At the bottom, fluorescent lights illuminated a corridor lined with locked doors.
Numbers began at 401.
Marianne stopped before 417.
A narrow observation window had been painted black.
She inserted the key.
The door opened.
A man sat on the edge of a narrow bed.
His hair was white.
His body was thinner than she remembered.
A scar crossed the left side of his face.
But Marianne knew the shape of his hands.
She knew the slight bend in his right index finger, broken while repairing their roof twenty years earlier.
“Thomas.”
The man lifted his head.
His eyes searched her face.
For a moment, there was no recognition.
Then his mouth opened.
“Marianne?”
She crossed the room.
He stood, stumbled, and caught the wall.
Marianne reached him before he fell.
Eight years vanished in the space between them.
She touched his face.
He was real.
Warm.
Breathing.
Thomas gripped her wrists as if testing whether she was a hallucination.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I was supposed to be.”
Naomi remained at the door, tears filling her eyes.
“Where is Rebecca?”
Thomas looked at her.
“You’re Naomi.”
“Where is my sister?”
“She is alive.”
Naomi covered her mouth.
“Take us to her.”
“We don’t have time.”
Thomas looked at Marianne’s handbag.
“Do you still have the ticket?”
Marianne pulled away.
“How do you know?”
“They told Derek before they told you.”
“Who?”
“The lottery security director is part of Pike’s network.”
“Why does everyone want this ticket?”
“Because the money can expose them.”
“I don’t understand.”
Thomas sat on the bed.
“The fraud is larger than medical billing. Pike’s organization identifies vulnerable people with property, investments, or inheritances. They manufacture health crises. They manipulate guardianship hearings. Then they move assets through trusts.”
“I know that much.”
“They also control judges, police officers, accountants, and state officials. Taking them down requires witnesses, records, and enough money to keep those witnesses alive.”
“The twenty million.”
Thomas nodded.
“Rebecca and I created a contingency plan before the crash. If one of us survived, we would find an independent source of money that Pike could not trace.”
“You planned to win the lottery?”
“No. We planned to use any unexpected asset that entered the network. An inheritance, a settlement, seized funds. The ticket is chance, but the timing is not.”
Marianne stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Derek knew you bought lottery tickets every Friday. He had the terminal monitored.”
“Why?”
“To identify whether you possessed anything he had not already taken.”
Naomi entered the room.
“What happened at Ridgeway Bridge?”
Thomas looked at the corridor.
“Rebecca was driving behind me. Halpern forced my car across the center line. Rebecca swerved to avoid me. We both went over the barrier.”
“We were told she died instantly.”
“She escaped her vehicle. She pulled me from mine.”
“Whose body did Marianne bury?”
“A patient from Rosewood. Similar age. Similar build. No family.”
Marianne felt suddenly cold.
“They killed a stranger to fake your death?”
“He had already died during an unauthorized drug trial. They used his body to solve two problems.”
Naomi’s voice hardened.
“And Rebecca?”
“She tried to bring evidence to federal agents. One agent betrayed her. She disappeared inside Rosewood under another name.”
“Why stay here?”
“She built a network among the staff and patients. She has been copying records.”
A lock clicked somewhere in the corridor.
Thomas stood.
“They’re starting the Friday transfer.”
Naomi moved to the door.
“How do we get Rebecca?”
“We don’t.”
“I did not come this far to leave her.”
“If you go below, you will not come back.”
Marianne faced Thomas.
“Are you coming with us?”
He looked at her with unbearable sadness.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
He pulled up his sleeve.
A small device had been implanted beneath the skin of his forearm.
“They track every restricted patient.”
Naomi examined it.
“I can remove that.”
“It contains a chemical capsule. If tampered with, it releases enough sedative to stop my heart.”
Marianne’s stomach turned.
“There must be another way.”
“There is.”
Thomas took the brass key from her and removed its engraved head. Inside was a tiny glass vial.
“This neutralizes the capsule.”
“How did Lillian get it?”
“Rebecca gave it to her.”
Naomi prepared to inject the liquid.
Thomas stopped her.
“Once you do this, the tracking alarm will activate.”
“How much time?”
“Four minutes.”
Naomi inserted the vial into a small port beneath the implant.
A green light beneath Thomas’s skin turned red.
An alarm began somewhere beyond the walls.
Thomas looked at Marianne.
“Now we run.”
The corridor lights switched from white to flashing crimson.
Doors locked one after another.
At the far end, an elevator opened.
Derek stepped out.
May you like
He held a gun.
“Dad,” he said, staring at Thomas. “You were supposed to be dead by now.”
