CHAPTER 8: THE DEATH CERTIFICATE
“No.”
The word came out before I could think.
Rebecca kept driving.
“They filed it eleven minutes ago.”
“Daniel isn't dead.”
“I know.”
“Then why does the system say he is?”
“Because someone wants him legally dead.”
I stared at her.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that if they control the paperwork, they can make him disappear without anyone asking where he went.”
Sarah suddenly grabbed my arm.
“Stop the car.”
Rebecca slammed on the brakes.
“What?”
Sarah pointed at the screen.
“Look.”
I leaned forward.
The death certificate wasn't just a document.
It contained a time of death.
11:20 p.m.
Cause of death:
ACUTE BEHAVIORAL CRISIS.
I stared at the words.
“That isn't a cause of death.”
“Exactly,” Rebecca said.
Sarah's hands were shaking.
“They're trying to create a medical record before anything happens.”
“Why?”
“To make whatever happens next look legitimate.”
I looked at the clock.
11:34.
Twenty-six minutes.
“We have to get Daniel.”
Rebecca restarted the car.
The old hospital appeared in the distance.
Its windows were black.
The building had been abandoned for years.
But several floors were lit.
Someone was inside.
We parked two streets away.
Rebecca opened the trunk.
Inside were flashlights, a laptop, bolt cutters, and three old hospital access cards.
I stared at her.
“You came prepared.”
“I've been waiting for this night for fifteen years.”
Sarah looked at her.
“You never told him.”
“I wasn't sure he was ready.”
I looked between them.
“Ready for what?”
Rebecca pulled out another photograph.
My father.
Standing beside her.
But Dad looked younger.
And beside him was a third person.
A woman.
I recognized her immediately.
My mother.
The three of them were standing in front of the same hospital.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
Six months before Dad died.
I stared at it.
“They knew each other.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Your mother wasn't always working against your father.”
I frowned.
“What changed?”
“Money.”
Sarah looked down.
“And fear.”
We entered through a side door.
The hallway smelled of dust and chemicals.
The emergency lights flickered.
We moved silently.
Then I saw something on the wall.
A child's drawing.
A house.
A mother.
A father.
A little boy.
And another person standing behind them.
I recognized the handwriting.
Daniel.
I touched the paper.
“When did he draw this?”
Sarah looked at it.
“Years ago.”
“Why is it here?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Rebecca looked toward the corridor.
“Someone moved through here recently.”
We continued.
At the end of the hallway was a locked elevator.
Rebecca swiped an access card.
The doors opened.
There was only one button.
B2.
The elevator descended.
No music.
No lights.
Just the sound of the machinery.
When the doors opened, we found a corridor that wasn't on any hospital blueprint.
Metal doors lined both sides.
Room numbers had been scratched off.
Then we heard something.
A voice.
Daniel.
“Don't touch me.”
I ran.
“Daniel!”
A door slammed.
I reached it and pulled.
Locked.
“Daniel!”
His voice came from inside.
“Don't open it!”
“It's me!”
Silence.
Then:
“Brother?”
“Yes.”
“Don't trust Mom.”
“I know.”
“Don't trust Mark.”
“I know.”
“Don't trust the doctor.”
I looked at Rebecca.
“What doctor?”
Daniel whispered:
“Dr. Cole.”
I pulled the door harder.
“Where are you?”
“Behind you.”
I turned.
A man stood at the end of the hallway.
White coat.
Hospital badge.
Dr. Cole.
The fake doctor.
He smiled.
“You really should have stayed home.”
Rebecca raised her flashlight.
“You're not a doctor.”
He laughed.
“Neither are most people who wear white coats.”
I stepped forward.
“Where's Daniel?”
He pointed toward the locked room.
“Exactly where your mother wanted him.”
I felt my blood boil.
“What did you do to him?”
“Nothing.”
“Then open the door.”
“No.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She whispered:
“Don't engage him.”
Dr. Cole smiled.
“You have twenty minutes.”
“Until what?”
“Midnight.”
“What's happening at midnight?”
He looked at the ceiling.
“Your brother's legal identity changes.”
I felt sick.
“What?”
“He becomes a ward of the state.”
“That's impossible.”
“Not with the right judge.”
I thought of Judge Whitaker.
Dr. Cole continued.
“Once the transfer is processed, your mother's control over the trust becomes permanent.”
“You're lying.”
“Am I?”
He held up a tablet.
On the screen was a digital document.
Guardianship transfer.
Daniel Whitmore.
I recognized the signature.
My mother's.
Then another.
Judge Whitaker.
Then another.
Dr. Cole.
But something was wrong.
The timestamp.
11:42 p.m.
Eight minutes in the future.
I looked at him.
“You forged a future document.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“It's already been signed.”
“How?”
“Because the system allows scheduled submissions.”
I stared at the screen.
They had planned everything down to the minute.
My mother hadn't just staged Daniel's breakdown.
She had scheduled his disappearance.
I looked toward the locked room.
“Let him go.”
Dr. Cole shook his head.
“Give me the box.”
“No.”
“Then he stays.”
I opened the metal box.
Dr. Cole's eyes locked onto the documents.
“That's what your father hid.”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
I pulled out one photograph.
A photograph of Dad.
“You want this?”
He stared.
I tore it in half.
His expression changed.
I tore it again.
“You're insane.”
“Maybe.”
I dropped the pieces.
“But I'm not giving you the evidence.”
Dr. Cole stepped forward.
Two men appeared behind him.
Security.
Rebecca whispered:
“Run.”
We moved simultaneously.
Rebecca threw her flashlight.
The hallway went dark.
I grabbed the door handle.
Sarah found a fire extinguisher.
She smashed the lock.
The door opened.
Daniel was inside.
He was strapped to a medical chair.
His face was pale.
“Daniel!”
I rushed toward him.
He grabbed my hand.
“You came.”
“Of course.”
I cut the restraints.
“Can you stand?”
He nodded.
Then he whispered:
“Dad was right.”
I froze.
“What?”
Daniel looked at me.
“He told me this would happen.”
“When?”
“Before he died.”
I stared.
“You remember?”
Daniel nodded.
“He gave me something.”
“What?”
Daniel pointed toward the wall.
A tiny vent.
“He hid it there.”
I opened it.
Inside was a cassette tape.
Old-fashioned.
I pulled it out.
Daniel whispered:
“Mom never found it.”
Dr. Cole shouted from the hallway.
“MOVE!”
We ran.
Rebecca led us through another corridor.
But the doors suddenly locked.
All of them.
A speaker crackled overhead.
My mother's voice filled the hallway.
“You should have listened to me.”
I looked up.
“Mom!”
Her voice remained calm.
“You've made this much harder than it needed to be.”
“Where are you?”
“Close.”
Daniel grabbed my arm.
He was shaking.
Then my mother's voice said something that made him freeze.
“Daniel knows what happened to your father.”
I looked at him.
“Daniel?”
He didn't answer.
My mother continued.
“He was there.”
Daniel's eyes filled with tears.
I whispered:
“What does she mean?”
Daniel looked at me.
“I saw her.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
“What did you see?”
He closed his eyes.
Then whispered:
“She changed Dad's medicine.”
I felt my heart stop.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Dad told me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew she would hurt me.”
The speaker crackled again.
My mother's voice returned.
“And now he has remembered everything.”
A door at the end of the corridor opened.
My mother stood there.
She was holding a folder.
Beside her was Mark.
And behind them stood Judge Whitaker.
I stared at the three of them.
The judge looked at his watch.
11:57.
My mother smiled.
“You have three minutes.”
Then she raised the folder.
“Give me your father's box.”
“No.”
She opened the folder.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel as a child.
Standing beside Dad.
My mother turned it around.
On the back was a handwritten sentence.
I looked at Daniel.
His face had gone completely white.
“That's the last thing your father ever wrote about you.”
I stared at the words.
And suddenly I understood why Daniel had been terrified all these years.
The sentence said:
IF DANIEL REMEMBERS THIS NIGHT, HE WILL KNOW WHO REALLY KILLED ME.
The clock changed.
11:58.
My mother smiled.
May you like
“Two minutes.”
Then the lights went out.
