Chapter 7 - The Manhattan Audit
Two weeks later, the cold wind of Manhattan whipped through the streets as Arthur and I stood outside the towering glass monolith of the Sterling World Headquarters on Madison Avenue.
I was dressed in a sharp, professional navy suit, my dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun, wearing non-prescription glasses. Arthur looked immaculate in a tailored attorney's suit, carrying a heavy leather briefcase. We carried forged, high-clearance medical audit badges courtesy of a brilliant hacker friend of Dr. Marcus.
"Are you ready?" Arthur whispered, reaching down to squeeze my hand. His touch was warm, steady, and filled with an unspoken promise to protect me with his life.
"More than ready," I replied. "Let's bring this house of cards down."
We walked through the grand marble lobby, breezing past security with our official-looking credentials and a fabricated story about a routine compliance audit of the Sterling Legacy Foundation's medical charities.
We made our way to the sub-basement archives—a cold, sterile room filled with rows of high-density mobile shelving containing decades of Sterling family records.
My heart hammered in my chest as I searched the database terminal. Whispering Pines Sanctuary. Archival Box 402.
I sprinted down the aisle, my fingers flying across the cardboard boxes until I found it. I pulled the heavy box down, blowing a layer of dust off the top. Inside were medical files, transport logs, and original admission charts.
I flipped through the folders until I found my own name: Evelyn Vance. Patient ID: 99402.
I opened the file. Inside was the smoking gun.
A handwritten directive on personal stationery bearing the Sterling crest. It was signed by Victoria Sterling.
"Patient to be administered daily doses of Compound O-7. Ensure complete retrograde memory block. No external visitors allowed under any circumstances. In the event of legal inquiries, patient is to be reported as deceased."
"I got it," I whispered, tears of validation springing to my eyes. "Arthur, I have it. It’s all here. The signature, the drug, the instructions. Everything."
"We need to get this to the federal prosecutors immediately," Arthur said, his eyes bright with victory.
But before we could turn toward the exit, the heavy steel doors of the archive room hissed open.
Standing in the doorway, surrounded by three burly security guards, was a tall, elegant woman with icy blonde hair and sharp, predatory eyes. Her red-manicured hands were curled around a designer handbag.
May you like
Victoria Sterling.
"Well, well, well," Victoria purred, a cruel, mocking smile spreading across her face. "I must admit, Evelyn... I genuinely thought you were dead this time. But like a cockroach, you just keep crawling back into my light."
