Chapter 10 - THE HOSPITAL THAT WAS NEVER EMPTYSaint Agnes stood on a hill outside a small Pennsylvania town.
From the road, it looked abandoned.
A stone chapel.
A long brick building.
Broken windows in the oldest wing.
Weeds growing through the parking lot.
A rusted sign announced that the rehabilitation hospital had closed years earlier.
But somebody had been maintaining the property.
The driveway was recently paved.
Several windows had new glass.
And behind the main building, a generator hummed.
I stood beside Detective Monroe at the edge of the woods.
Grace was with us.
So was Hannah.
I had argued against bringing the sisters.
They had argued harder.
Hannah knew the medical records.
Grace knew Isabelle's handwriting and the girls' clues.
Monroe had brought a small team of investigators and arranged for additional officers to remain out of sight until she called them in.
We weren't going to charge through the front doors.
Not this time.
We were going to find out what was inside.
Monroe studied a map.
“North service tunnel should be beyond the chapel.”
I looked toward the building.
A light glowed in one upstairs window.
My heart stopped.
Was Isabelle behind it?
Was she looking out?
Did she know I was here?
Grace touched my sleeve.
“Dominic.”
I turned.
“Remember what Olivia said.”
I nodded.
Bring everybody home.
We moved through the trees.
The old maintenance building stood behind a collapsing stone wall.
Its door was secured with a new electronic lock.
Monroe examined it.
“Recently installed.”
One of her investigators checked the surrounding structure and located a maintenance access point.
Within minutes, the door opened.
Cold air drifted from the tunnel.
It smelled of bleach.
And something else.
Hospital disinfectant.
The passage was dark.
Emergency lights glowed along the floor.
We moved slowly.
At the far end, voices echoed.
Two men.
One laughed.
The other complained about working overnight.
Monroe raised her hand.
We stopped.
She signaled her officers.
They approached quietly, identified themselves, and detained the guards before either could reach the alarm panel.
One of the men stared at me.
“Romano?”
I recognized him.
A former security contractor.
He had worked for Anthony years earlier.
I leaned toward him.
“Where's Isabelle?”
He looked away.
Monroe stepped between us.
“I'll handle him.”
She questioned him while I examined the corridor.
Several doors lined the walls.
Each had a small window.
The first room was empty.
The second contained hospital beds.
The third was locked.
Behind its window, someone moved.
A woman.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Wearing a hospital gown.
She approached the glass.
“Please.”
Her voice was barely audible.
“Please help us.”
Grace covered her mouth.
Monroe hurried forward.
“Who are you?”
The woman pressed her hands against the glass.
“My name is Rebecca Shaw.”
I froze.
The missing medical records administrator.
The woman whose husband had been killed.
She was alive.
Monroe's expression changed.
“Rebecca?”
The woman nodded.
“Please. There are more of us.”
The investigators opened the room.
Rebecca stumbled into Monroe's arms.
She began crying.
“Anthony said nobody was coming.”
Monroe held her gently.
“It's over.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“No.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
“Not yet.”
I stepped closer.
“Where's Isabelle?”
Rebecca stared.
“Dominic?”
“Yes.”
She grabbed my sleeve.
“She's been waiting for you.”
My heart stopped.
“Where?”
“Third floor. East wing.”
I moved.
Monroe caught my arm.
“Stay with the team.”
I looked at her.
She didn't release me.
“Don't let everything fall apart now.”
I wanted to run.
I wanted to tear every door from its hinges.
But I thought of Olivia.
Sophie.
Nora.
And I stayed.
We moved through the hospital together.
The first floor contained six occupied rooms.
Three people were being held against their will.
Two were former employees who had discovered financial irregularities.
One was a former accountant.
The other rooms contained medical equipment and records.
Grace looked horrified.
“This place has been operating for years.”
Hannah stared at a wall covered in faded children's drawings.
“Some of these people were here before Isabelle.”
Monroe radioed for medical assistance.
Then we continued upstairs.
The second floor was quiet.
Too quiet.
At the staircase leading to the third floor, a security camera turned toward us.
A red light blinked.
Somebody was watching.
Then a speaker crackled.
“Dominic.”
Anthony Bellucci.
My blood froze.
His voice filled the hallway.
“I wondered how long it would take you.”
I looked toward the camera.
“Where's my wife?”
Anthony sighed.
“Still asking the wrong question.”
I raised my voice.
“Show yourself.”
“There's no need for theatrics.”
Monroe stepped forward.
“Anthony Bellucci, this is Detective Rachel Monroe. The building is surrounded. We're conducting a rescue operation, and you're required to release anyone being held here.”
Anthony laughed softly.
“Detective, I admire your confidence.”
The speaker clicked.
Then another voice came through.
A woman.
Weak.
But unmistakable.
“Dominic?”
Everything inside me stopped.
“Isabelle?”
A sob.
“Oh, God.”
I stepped toward the camera.
“Baby?”
Her voice broke.
“Dominic, don't come upstairs.”
I felt my chest collapse.
“I'm here.”
“Please.”
“I'm coming to get you.”
She began crying.
Then Anthony returned.
“Touching.”
I clenched my fists.
“What do you want?”
“The pendants.”
I looked at Monroe.
She nodded once.
“Which ones?” I asked.
“All three.”
“I don't have them.”
“Then you're wasting my time.”
A metallic sound echoed above us.
A door opening.
Then Isabelle cried out.
I moved toward the stairs.
Monroe blocked me.
Anthony spoke again.
“Bring me the butterflies, Dominic. Or your wife will never leave this building.”
The speaker went silent.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Grace touched my arm.
“We have the first pendant.”
I nodded.
“The other two are with the girls.”
Monroe looked at me.
“We're not bringing children anywhere near this place.”
“Of course not.”
I took out my phone.
Called Hannah's contact at the guesthouse.
Samuel answered.
“Dominic?”
“Are the girls safe?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to check Sophie's and Nora's necklaces.”
“What for?”
“Make sure they're still wearing them.”
A pause.
Then footsteps.
Samuel returned.
“Sophie has hers.”
“And Nora?”
Silence.
My stomach dropped.
“Samuel?”
“I'm looking.”
I heard Nora speaking in the background.
Then Samuel said, “She says Mrs. Donnelly took it.”
I closed my eyes.
“When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Before the fire.
Mrs. Donnelly had taken Nora's butterfly.
Anthony already had one piece.
I looked at Grace.
“We only have two.”
She swallowed.
Monroe's radio crackled.
An officer reported movement near the rear entrance.
A black sedan.
Two occupants.
One male.
One female.
The woman stepped out.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
Mrs. Donnelly.
My house manager.
The woman who had watched my daughters grow up.
She was carrying a small velvet pouch.
And beside her stood Vincent.
My brother.
Monroe looked at me.
“They're here.”
I stared at the security monitor.
Vincent raised his hands toward the officers.
He appeared to be surrendering.
Mrs. Donnelly did not.
She looked directly at the camera above the entrance.
Then she smiled.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Mrs. Donnelly's voice came through.
“Mr. Romano.”
I felt cold.
“What have you done?”
She sounded almost disappointed.
“You really should have listened to your wife.”
I gripped the phone.
“Where's Nora's necklace?”
“Safe.”
“Give it to the police.”
A soft laugh.
“You still don't understand.”
I looked toward the entrance.
She continued.
“Your wife hid three pieces of evidence. Anthony has spent fourteen months looking for them.”
“Then why didn't you give him the necklace?”
“Because Anthony isn't the only person who wants what's inside.”
I stared.
“Who else?”
Her voice hardened.
May you like
“Me.”
Then the hospital alarm began screaming.
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