Chapter 19 - DANIELDaniel read the document once.
Then again.
We were in my study.
The same room where I had fired him jokingly hundreds of times.
Nothing was funny now.
“That’s my signature.”
Emily went still.
“Why did you block Marcus from Claire’s room?”
“I didn’t.”
I stood.
“Daniel.”
“I did not.”
Brooks placed the record before him.
“Then explain.”
He stared at the timestamp.
11:19 p.m.
His face changed.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
He sat.
“That wasn’t about Claire.”
“What was it about?”
“You.”
I felt cold.
“Explain.”
“Vance told me reporters had gotten into the private wing.”
“What?”
“He said there was a security breach and someone might approach you pretending to be staff.”
“So?”
“I ordered the corridor locked down.”
“And?”
“I told hospital security nobody entered your designated waiting area without clearance.”
Emily understood first.
“The order was reversed.”
Daniel looked sick.
“They used my authorization to keep Marcus from entering Claire’s clinical area.”
I stared at him.
“You never checked?”
“I thought you were where you wanted to be.”
“Where?”
“The private family room.”
I remembered.
Vance himself had escorted me there.
Coffee.
Phone calls.
Updates every ten minutes.
He had isolated me.
Not because he planned Claire’s death.
Because he did not want me seeing the chaos on the floor.
The delayed surgeon.
The arguments.
The nurse who called another doctor.
The medical institution losing control of a high-profile patient.
Daniel looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
Years ago, I might have destroyed him for it.
But he had been manipulated by the same thing I had been.
Authority.
Procedure.
A polished explanation.
“I believe you.”
His eyes lifted.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
Brooks looked almost proud.
I hated that.
Then Daniel said:
“There’s one thing.”
Of course.
“Vance called me afterward.”
“When?”
“Morning after Claire died.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked whether our security cameras had recorded the hallway.”
My pulse changed.
“Had they?”
Daniel looked toward me.
“Yes.”
I stood slowly.
“Where is the footage?”
“I told him it had been deleted.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t trust him.”
Emily stared.
“You kept it?”
“For a while.”
“For a while?”
Daniel looked miserable.
“Our retention system overwrote it after five years.”
My anger surged.
Then he continued.
“But I saved three clips.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“Why three?”
“They looked strange.”
He retrieved an encrypted archive from an old company server.
Clip one.
11:18 p.m.
Vance escorts me away from Claire’s corridor.
Clip two.
11:27.
Dr. Bell tries to pass the security desk.
Hospital security stops him.
They argue.
Clip three.
12:03 a.m.
A woman exits Claire’s room carrying a paper folder.
Not Evelyn.
Not Sara Lin.
Not Julia.
Not anyone we knew.
Brooks froze the image.
Hospital badge.
Administration.
Name partially visible.
C. MONROE.
Emily whispered:
“Monroe?”
My stomach dropped.
Patricia Monroe.
Rosebridge’s founder.
The woman who had later concealed Margaret’s history.
May you like
She had been inside Claire’s hospital room the night Claire died.
Years before we ever hired Margaret.
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