Chapter 1 - THE PATIENT WHO WASN’T SUPPOSED TO TALKThe cast came off.

And the room went silent.

I had seen infected wounds before.

Bad ones.

Wounds that made experienced surgeons step back for half a second before forcing themselves forward.

But Emily Harris’s arm was different.

The skin beneath the cast had turned almost black in places. Her forearm was swollen to nearly twice its normal size, blistered and split in several locations. Thick yellow drainage covered the old wounds, and the tissue around her wrist had begun to die.

Marcus swore under his breath.

“Jesus.”

I ignored him.

I was staring at her wrist.

Finger-shaped bruises wrapped around it.

Not one set.

Several.

Some were dark purple and fresh.

Others had faded to a sickly yellow, showing they had been there for days.

Maybe weeks.

I looked at Daniel.

He was standing near the door.

His face had gone completely white.

“What happened to her wrist?”

“I don’t know.”

His answer came too quickly.

I turned back to Emily.

“Start two large-bore IVs. Blood cultures. CBC, CMP, lactate, coagulation panel. Call surgery and ICU. Get antibiotics running immediately.”

Marcus nodded.

“Already doing it.”

I grabbed scissors and cut through the remaining layers around her elbow.

Underneath the cast was another layer of cloth.

That was strange.

Fiberglass casts were not usually sealed with thick adhesive wrapping.

I pulled it away.

A tiny rectangular plastic pouch fell onto the bed.

Marcus stared at it.

“What is that?”

I picked it up.

Inside was a folded piece of paper.

Emily’s name was written on the outside.

Not printed.

Written by hand.

I opened it.

Three words.

DON’T TRUST HIM.

My heart skipped.

I looked toward Daniel.

He had seen it too.

“What did she write?”

I slipped the note into my pocket.

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed.

Then Emily made a sound.

Barely audible.

A dry, broken gasp.

We leaned toward her.

“Emily?”

Her eyelids fluttered.

I held her shoulder.

“Emily, you’re in the hospital. Can you hear me?”

Her lips trembled.

“Sarah…”

I froze.

“You know me?”

Her eyes opened.

For the first time, pure terror appeared in them.

Not confusion.

Not fever.

Terror.

She tried to lift her head.

I bent closer.

“What happened?”

Her fingers twitched against the bed.

She was struggling to speak.

I leaned closer.

“Take your time.”

Her gaze moved past me.

Straight toward Daniel.

He took one step forward.

Emily recoiled.

Her monitor screamed as her heart rate jumped.

“No…”

Her voice was almost gone.

Daniel stopped.

“Emily, sweetheart…”

She shook her head violently.

“No.”

He looked at me.

“She’s delirious.”

Emily suddenly grabbed my wrist.

Her nails dug into my skin with surprising strength.

“He… knows…”

She coughed.

“He knows where…”

“What?”

She swallowed.

“Where the others are.”

Daniel moved.

Fast.

He reached toward the bed.

I stepped between them.

“Back away.”

His face changed.

For a second, the calm husband disappeared.

Something colder surfaced.

Then he smiled.

“You’re misunderstanding.”

Emily’s monitor began shrieking.

Her blood pressure crashed.

“Surgery now!” I shouted.

The team flooded into the room.

Daniel was pushed backward.

Emily was barely conscious.

But before the nurses rolled her toward the operating room, her hand found mine again.

Her lips moved.

I bent down.

“Tell me.”

She whispered four words.

“Basement. Room nineteen.”

Then she passed out.

We rushed her through the doors.

I stood there for exactly one second.

Then I looked at Marcus.

“Find out where Room Nineteen is.”

He stared at me.

“Our hospital?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

I looked toward Daniel.

“Somewhere else.”

And when I turned back, Daniel was gone.

He had disappeared through the emergency department doors.

Without saying goodbye.

Without asking whether his wife was alive.

That was the moment I knew.

This was no longer just a medical emergency.

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