Chapter 4 - The Betrayal Within
The administrator's office was a luxurious space filled with leather sofas, original oil paintings, and a massive mahogany desk. Dr. Vance locked the door behind them, his hands shaking as he walked over to a hidden wall safe behind a painting of Mount Sopris.
He spun the dial, opened the steel door, and pulled out a thin, dusty manila folder. He placed it on the desk with a heavy sigh.
"This is the original intake file," Dr. Vance said, his voice barely audible. "We kept a physical copy in case... in case the party who brought him in ever tried to double-cross us. It was our insurance policy."
Ava reached for the folder, her fingers trembling as she opened it.
The first page was an intake sheet dated October 24, 2018.
The patient’s name had been left blank, but there was a photograph stapled to the corner.
It was Nathan.
His face was pale, covered in cuts and bruises, with a thick white bandage wrapped around his head. But it was him. His strong jaw, his crooked nose, his dark hair.
Ava let out a broken gasp, her tears falling onto the plastic protective sleeve of the photograph. "Nathan... oh my God, Nathan."
Daniel stepped closer, looking over her shoulder. His eyes scanned the intake notes, written in Emily’s neat, precise handwriting.
Patient admitted with severe head trauma, fractured ribs, and third-degree frostbite to the lower extremities. Admitted by private medical transport under the authorization of—
Daniel’s breath caught in his throat.
The name printed at the bottom of the authorization form was not Arthur Hawthorne.
It was Julian Vance.
Ava froze, her head snapping up. "Julian Vance? My Chief Financial Officer?"
"Julian Vance?" Daniel repeated. "The man who runs your company's finances?"
"Yes," Ava said, her mind spinning as the pieces of the puzzle began to shatter and reform. "Julian has been with the company since the beginning. He was Nathan's best friend in college. He was... he was the godfather to our nieces. I trusted him with everything."
"According to this," Daniel said, pointing to the subsequent pages in the file, "Julian Vance paid the clinic fifty thousand dollars in cash every week to keep Nathan in a medically induced coma. He didn't want him to wake up. He wanted him kept in a vegetative state."
"But Emily's notes say he did wake up," Ava said, her voice shaking with a sudden, burning rage. "He woke up during her shift. He gave her the necklace."
"Yes," Dr. Vance said quietly. "And when Julian found out that the patient had regained consciousness, even briefly, he panicked. He realized the medical staff was starting to ask questions. He brought in his own transport team, took the patient, and... and we never saw him again."
"Where did they take him, Harrison?" Ava demanded, grabbing Dr. Vance by his collar. "Where is my husband?"
"I don't know, Ava! I swear to you!" Dr. Vance cried, raising his hands in surrender. "Julian told me he was transferring him to a private facility in Switzerland. He said it was for his own protection. I didn't ask questions. The money was too good, and I... I had my own debts to pay."
Ava let go of him, disgust written across her face. "You are a monster."
"We need to get out of here," Daniel said suddenly, his eyes darting to the window. "Ava, look."
Outside the window, two black SUVs had just pulled through the security gates of the clinic, parking directly behind Ava’s SUV.
Several men in dark suits and tactical vests stepped out of the vehicles, their hands resting on the holsters of their weapons.
At the head of the group was Julian Vance.
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He looked exactly as he always did—immaculately dressed in a gray bespoke suit, his silver hair neatly combed, his expression calm and professional. But as he looked up at the administrator's window, his eyes were cold and dead.
"He knows we're here," Daniel said, his grip tightening around a now-awake Lily, who was whimpering in fear. "We’re trapped."
