Chapter 3 - THE LOCKED WINGGetting past the security desk of the Apex Medical Research Facility wasn't as hard as Frank anticipated. Using an old trick involving a clipboard, a high-visibility vest, and an authoritative demeanor, the retired detective walked right past the lobby guard, flashing a retired badge so fast it looked like an active federal credential. Arthur marched right behind him.
They took the service elevator to the fourth floor—a restricted zone marked with biohazard symbols and strict keycard access requirements.
"According to the directory board in the lobby, Floor 4 houses Experimental Neurology and Pharmacological Trials," Frank whispered as the elevator doors slid open into a stark, white-tiled hallway smelling of antiseptic and bleach.
The corridor was eerily quiet. Soft electronic hums echoed from behind thick glass doors.
"Which way?" Arthur asked, clutching a small crowbar Frank had stashed in his trunk—just in case.
"Let's check the administrative logs near the nurses' station."
As they rounded the corner, a voice drifted out from an open office door down the hall. It was Marcus’s voice, sharp and demanding.
"...the second installment from the Miller estate cleared this morning. We have another thirty grand coming next week. Stop complaining about the overhead, Elena."
Elena? Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. Claire’s middle name was Elena.
Arthur crept closer to the door, peering through the narrow gap between the frame and the hinges. Marcus was standing by a sleek glass desk, talking to a woman sitting in a swivel chair.
It was the blonde woman.
"Thirty thousand won't cover the hush money for the local precinct contact, Marcus," the woman said, turning around.
When Arthur saw her face fully in the fluorescent light, the blood drained completely from his face. It was Claire. Older, her hair dyed a platinum blonde, her cheekbones sharper, and a faint, jagged scar running down the side of her neck—but it was unmistakably Claire.
Arthur let out a ragged, involuntary gasp.
Inside the office, Marcus and the woman whipped their heads toward the door.
"Someone's out there!" the woman hissed.
"Run!" Frank grabbed Arthur’s jacket, yanking him backward just as Marcus burst out into the hallway.
"Hey! Security!" Marcus bellowed.
Arthur and Frank sprinted down the corridor, diving into the stairwell just as emergency alarms began to wail overhead. They hit the ground floor at a dead sprint, bursting out into the alleyway behind the building and jumping straight into Frank’s sedan before security guards could even reach the exit.
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As Frank tore out of the alley, Arthur sat in the passenger seat, trembling violently, staring at his hands.
"She’s alive," Arthur whispered, his voice hollowed out by a mixture of unimaginable joy and absolute terror. "My little girl is alive. But why... why did she help Marcus fake her own death?"
