Chapter 7 - THE DEBT THAT COULD NEVER BE REPAID
For the first time in nine years, Dominic Moretti cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
He stood alone in his father's old study, staring at a medical record that should never have existed.
The record showed that after the warehouse explosion, Dominic had required an emergency transfusion.
The hospital's supply had been delayed.
His condition was critical.
Rebecca Whitmore, already hospitalized after a violent assault, had volunteered as a compatible donor.
But the chart contained something more.
Rebecca had suffered complications afterward.
Her pregnancy had been endangered.
And Margaret Reed had filed a formal complaint alleging that Rebecca had been pressured into signing additional consent forms while heavily medicated.
Dominic sat down.
His father had told him the hospital saved him.
He had never mentioned the two women.
One had lost her career.
The other had disappeared.
And Dominic had spent nine years believing his father had paid every bill.
A knock sounded.
Hannah entered.
“Claire said you wanted to see me.”
Dominic stood.
He held out the medical file.
“Your mother saved my life.”
Hannah nodded.
“I know.”
“And Rebecca helped save it too.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“My father ruined both of them.”
Hannah looked at him.
“You didn't know.”
“That doesn't change what happened.”
“No.”
He took a breath.
“I want to repay your family.”
Hannah's expression changed.
“Don't.”
“I can restore your mother's reputation. I can pay for your father's care. I can—”
“Stop.”
Dominic fell silent.
Hannah's eyes filled.
“You think everything has a number attached to it.”
He stared.
“My mother lost nine years of being remembered as a good nurse. My father lost his health trying to keep us alive. I lost my education because we couldn't afford the tuition.”
Her voice broke.
“And now you want to write a check and make it disappear?”
Dominic lowered his eyes.
“No.”
“Then don't call it repayment.”
He looked at her.
“What should I call it?”
“Responsibility.”
The word struck him harder than an accusation.
Hannah wiped her cheek.
“Help us find my father. Help clear my mother's name. And when it's over, let us decide what comes next.”
Dominic nodded.
“I will.”
His phone rang.
Claire.
“We have a location.”
Dominic straightened.
“Where?”
“An abandoned rehabilitation center near Waukegan. The property is owned through three shell companies linked to Voss.”
“Is Hannah's father there?”
“We don't know yet.”
“Have you called the police?”
“Yes. Detective Ruiz is coordinating with local officers.”
Dominic looked at Hannah.
“We may have found him.”
Her hands flew to her mouth.
“Is he alive?”
“We don't know. But we're going to find out.”
Forty minutes later, Dominic waited in a police command vehicle outside the rehabilitation center.
He had insisted on coming.
Detective Elena Ruiz had reluctantly allowed him to remain outside the perimeter.
Hannah sat beside him.
Neither spoke.
Then the radio crackled.
“Movement on the second floor.”
A pause.
“Male subject located.”
Hannah gripped Dominic's arm.
The radio continued.
“Subject conscious. Requesting medical assistance.”
Hannah began crying.
Dominic closed his eyes.
But the relief lasted only seconds.
Another voice came over the radio.
“Detective, we found a second room.”
Ruiz lifted the microphone.
“What is it?”
“Medical equipment. Recently used.”
“Any patients?”
A pause.
“One bed.”
“Occupied?”
“No.”
Ruiz frowned.
“Anything else?”
“Personal belongings. Female clothing. Prescription bottles.”
Dominic looked at her.
The officer continued.
“And a photograph.”
Ruiz asked, “Of whom?”
The reply came slowly.
“Dominic Moretti.”
The command vehicle went silent.
Hannah stared at him.
Ruiz turned toward Dominic.
“Why would your photograph be in a private patient room?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Minutes later, paramedics brought Hannah's father outside.
Thomas Reed was sixty-one, pale and exhausted.
Hannah ran to him.
“Dad!”
He reached for her.
“My girl.”
She embraced him carefully.
Dominic stood back.
Thomas noticed him.
His expression changed.
“Moretti.”
Dominic approached.
“Mr. Reed.”
Thomas gripped his daughter's hand.
“Did you tell him?”
Hannah frowned.
“Tell him what?”
Thomas looked at Dominic.
“About the hospital.”
“He knows about Mom.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
His voice became urgent.
“Not Margaret.”
Hannah stared.
Thomas reached into his coat.
He removed a folded photograph.
It showed a younger Dominic standing beside a woman with long dark hair.
A woman holding a baby.
Dominic stared.
He recognized himself.
But he had never seen the woman.
Thomas whispered, “Your father didn't just hide the truth about the hospital.”
Dominic looked up.
May you like
Thomas's eyes filled.
“He hid your daughter.”
