Chapter 9 - The Battle for Room 402
Before Marcus could pull the trigger, a heavy metal fire extinguisher slammed violently into the side of his head.
He staggered sideways, dropping the gun onto the linoleum floor. Standing behind him was Amelia, her expensive evening dress torn and stained with grease, her eyes blazing with wild fury.
“Amelia?” I shouted in disbelief.
“Grab the gun, Ryan!” she yelled, kicking Marcus’s legs out from under him.
I lunged forward, tackling the second security guard into the wall while William used his heavy wooden cane to strike the third man across the knee. The hallway descended into a chaotic struggle under the flashing red emergency lights and deafening alarm sirens.
I grabbed the fallen pistol, racked the slide, and pointed it directly at Marcus, who was groaning on the floor. “Don't move!”
Amelia was breathing heavily, her hair falling in matted clumps around her face. “Your mother tried to have me silenced too,” she panted, holding up her phone. “She thought I was a liability because I saw the financial transfers on her phone at the restaurant. She sent her men to my apartment. I followed them here.”
“Why are you helping us?” Grace asked, her voice shaking as she held the girls tightly.
Amelia looked at Grace, her pride finally stripped away, revealing a raw, hollow remorse. “Because I may be vain, and I may have wanted his money... but I am not a monster. She’s going to kill that little boy, Grace. We have to get to OR 3 before her doctors turn off the life support to cover their tracks.”
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We didn't hesitate. I threw the weapon to William, grabbed Grace’s hand, and we ran down the smoke-filled corridor toward the surgical suite, with Amelia following closely behind.
We reached the double doors of Operating Room 3 just as a red warning light changed to solid black. The digital heart rate display above the door read zero.
