Chapter 11 - Elena’s Last MessageThey returned to the hospital under police escort.
This time, Simon did not fight the authorities. He gave them the memory card, the voice recorder, and the photographs.
But the detective in charge was connected to Vincent.
Natasha knew it the moment the man entered the room.
He was too calm.
Too interested in Simon’s guilt and not interested enough in the babies.
His name was Detective Harlan.
He examined the evidence with a bored expression.
“Most of this is circumstantial.”
“Forty-seven patient deaths are circumstantial?” Natasha asked.
Harlan looked at her.
“You’re not part of this investigation.”
“She is,” Simon said.
Harlan smiled.
“Mr. Gambino, your reputation makes every accusation against you believable.”
“Even murder?”
“Especially murder.”
The twins stirred.
Natasha began the rhythm.
Harlan watched her hand.
“Does that work on adults?”
“Only the honest ones.”
His smile disappeared.
Simon stepped toward him.
“Leave.”
Harlan closed the evidence box.
“I’ll decide when I leave.”
The door opened behind him.
Claire Morgan entered with a lawyer and a federal agent.
The agent held a warrant.
“Detective Harlan, you are ordered to surrender all evidence related to the Gambino Medical investigation.”
Harlan froze.
Claire looked at Natasha.
“I told you Simon wasn’t the danger.”
Natasha remembered the phone call in the van.
“You worked for Vincent.”
“I worked undercover.”
“For how long?”
“Two years.”
“Why didn’t you expose him?”
“Because every time I got close, someone died.”
Claire looked at the twins.
“Elena recruited me before she died. She knew the police were compromised.”
Simon asked, “Where is the rest of the evidence?”
Claire removed a small key from her pocket.
“Locker 214.”
They drove to St. Raphael’s that night.
The abandoned hospital stood at the edge of the city, its windows dark and broken. Rain slid down the walls. The sign above the entrance was half torn away.
Inside, dust covered the floors.
The old medical records department was located in the basement.
Locker 214 opened with Elena’s key.
Inside was a sealed box.
It contained patient files, financial records, and one final video.
Natasha recognized Elena’s face on the screen.
She sat in a dark room, pale and exhausted.
“Simon,” Elena said, “if you are watching this, Vincent has probably convinced the world that I was unstable.”
Simon stared at the screen.
Elena continued.
“I loved you. Even when I was afraid of what your family had done to you.”
Simon looked away.
“I found proof that Vincent ordered the clinic to alter my medication records. He wanted to make me appear unreliable. He planned to have the twins declared medically dependent so he could control their trust fund.”
Natasha felt sick.
“He also knows about the congenital condition.”
Simon’s face tightened.
“What condition?”
Elena continued.
“The boys have a rare metabolic sensitivity. They react badly to certain sedatives. Vincent knows this. If they suffer repeated exposure, their neurological damage could become permanent.”
Natasha looked toward the twins, who were sleeping in their carriers.
Elena’s voice shook.
“I tried to tell Simon, but Vincent intercepted my messages. If I die, the boys must never be given medication without independent testing.”
The screen flickered.
A shadow appeared behind Elena.
Her face turned toward the sound.
Then she whispered the final words.
“Simon, don’t punish yourself for loving me too late. Punish the man who made you believe love was weakness.”
The video ended.
Simon stood perfectly still.
Natasha touched his arm.
He did not move.
Then the hospital lights turned on.
One by one.
At the far end of the basement, Vincent stood beside a row of armed men.
He clapped slowly.
“Beautiful,” he said.
Simon stepped in front of Natasha and the twins.
Vincent smiled.
“Now you know why I needed the babies alive.”
Simon’s voice was low.
“You killed Elena.”
“No. I gave her a choice.”
“What choice?”
“Silence or suffering.”
Simon raised his weapon.
Vincent’s guards aimed theirs.
Natasha whispered, “Don’t.”
Simon did not look at her.
Vincent laughed.
“You see? Even now, she controls you.”
“No,” Natasha said. “He controls himself.”
Vincent’s smile faded.
Then the federal agent behind them drew his weapon.
“Everyone lower your guns.”
Vincent’s eyes moved toward Claire.
Claire stood beside the agent.
“The entire conversation is being recorded,” she said.
Vincent glanced around the basement.
For the first time, fear touched his face.
But only for a second.
He lifted one hand.
May you like
The lights exploded.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Related Stories
