Chapter 2 - The Hospital Room and the Forbidden File
Headline: The Billionaire Broke Into His Own Bio-Tech Lab—Only To Find His Dead Wife’s Heart Was Still Beating.
Ethan didn't wait for the man to shoot.
He grabbed a heavy bronze candelabra from the altar rail and lunged forward, swinging it with all his might. The heavy metal connected with the first man’s wrist with a sickening crack. The gun clattered to the stone floor.
"Lily, run!" Ethan roared, grabbing her hand.
They bolted down a narrow side corridor leading to the rectory. Behind them, the sounds of shouting and heavy footsteps echoed through the church. Ethan knew every corner of St. Mary's—his family had funded its restoration a decade ago. He led Lily through a heavy wooden door that opened into a dark, overgrown courtyard behind the building.
He threw her into the passenger seat of his black SUV, locked the doors, and slammed his foot on the gas just as the three men burst into the courtyard. Bullets chipped the brick walls behind them, but Ethan cleared the gate, roaring out into the rain-slicked city streets.
Lily was crying quietly, her small hands clutching her seatbelt. "They want to take me back to the white rooms," she sobbed. "They said Mommy is going to sleep forever if I don't go with them."
Ethan gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "Who are they, Lily? Where is your mommy?"
"At the big white hospital," Lily whimpered. "The one with the blue shield logo on the door."
Ethan’s heart dropped. The blue shield.
That was the logo of Sacred Heart Private Clinic. It was a highly exclusive, state-of-the-art medical facility.
And it was fully funded and owned by Marlo Industries.
It was the very hospital where Rachel had spent her final weeks. It was the hospital where Dr. Victor Vance, his chief medical officer and Rachel’s primary physician, had pronounced her dead.
Ethan pulled his phone out and dialed Margaret.
"Mr. Marlo?" her voice came through the speaker, sounding anxious. "Where are you? The Japanese delegation—"
"Margaret, listen to me very carefully," Ethan interrupted, his voice shaking with a dangerous edge. "I need you to access the secure archives of Sacred Heart Clinic. I want the full medical files of Clara Vance."
There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line.
"Sir?" Margaret’s voice sounded suddenly guarded. "Clara Vance is Dr. Vance's private patient. Her records are highly classified under our bio-tech division's proprietary security. Even you don't have direct access without board approval."
"I own the damn board, Margaret! Get me those files, or you're fired before the sun sets."
"Ethan..." Margaret’s voice softened, transitioning from professional assistant to a concerned maternal figure. "Please. You are digging into things that will destroy you. Go home."
"How do you know what I'm digging into?" Ethan hissed.
She hung up.
Ethan stared at the phone. The betrayal tasted like ash in his mouth. Margaret had been with him for ten years. She knew everything.
He looked over at Lily. Her green eyes were watching him with a mixture of terror and hope. He had to know the truth.
Thirty minutes later, Ethan bypassed the main entrance of Sacred Heart Clinic, using his executive keycard to access the underground parking garage and the private elevators. He kept Lily close, wrapping her in his oversized coat to hide her yellow raincoat.
The elevator opened onto the VIP wing—a quiet, carpeted floor where only the ultra-wealthy or the highly classified were kept.
Ethan marched down the hallway toward the end cabin, Room 404. He swiped his executive card. The lock clicked.
He stepped inside, pulling Lily with him, and closed the door.
The room was filled with the rhythmic, mechanical hum of life support machines. A woman lay in the center of the bed, pale, motionless, with wires and tubes snaking from her body.
Ethan stepped closer, his breath catching in his throat.
The woman in the bed had Rachel’s face.
The same high cheekbones. The same soft curve of her jaw. But her hair was short, cropped close to her head, and her skin was almost translucent.
"Mommy!" Lily cried, running to the side of the bed. She reached up, holding the woman’s limp, cold hand. "Mommy, I brought the angel. He saved me."
Ethan stood frozen at the foot of the bed. He looked at the medical monitor. The heart rate was a steady, artificial 60 beats per minute.
Suddenly, the door behind them swung open.
"You shouldn't be here, Ethan," a cold, familiar voice said.
Ethan turned. standing in the doorway was Dr. Victor Vance, his white lab coat pristine, his eyes empty behind his wire-rimmed glasses. Behind him stood two of the armed men from the church.
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"Victor," Ethan said, his voice dangerously low. "What is the meaning of this? Why is my wife alive in this room?"
Dr. Vance sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Because, Ethan, she was too valuable to let die. But you have it slightly wrong. That woman in the bed isn't Rachel."
