CHAPTER 8 — THE LOCKED ROOM
The child's scream echoed through Blue Ward.
Nathan ran.
His footsteps pounded against the polished concrete as officers raced behind him.
"Move!"
Officer Collins shouted as two tactical officers pushed ahead with their weapons raised.
The scream came again.
Then—
silence.
Nathan turned the last corner and stopped so abruptly that Collins nearly crashed into him.
A steel security door blocked the hallway.
Fresh blood streaked across its white surface.
Not much.
Just enough to make everyone's heart stop.
A small handprint.
A child's hand.
Nathan pressed his palm against the cold metal.
"It's locked."
A technician examined the electronic keypad.
"This system still has power."
"Can you open it?"
"It'll take a minute."
Nathan shook his head.
"We don't have a minute."
One of the officers stepped forward.
"Battering ram!"
Three heavy blows shook the corridor.
The door barely moved.
"This is reinforced steel."
Nathan looked through the narrow observation window.
Darkness.
Then...
movement.
A shadow crossed the room.
"Nathan!"
Officer Collins pointed.
"There!"
Nathan caught only a glimpse.
A small figure disappeared behind a row of cabinets.
"There's someone inside!"
The ram struck again.
The hinges groaned.
One final impact—
The lock exploded.
The steel door swung inward.
The room was empty.
At least...
it looked empty.
Dust covered the floor.
Old hospital beds lined the walls.
Cabinets stood open.
Medical equipment had been abandoned years earlier.
Nathan stepped inside slowly.
"This can't be right."
Officer Collins knelt near the entrance.
"Footprints."
Fresh.
Small.
Bare feet.
They ended...
at the far wall.
Nathan frowned.
"They don't come back."
Everyone stared.
The prints simply stopped.
As though the child had walked into solid concrete.
A forensic officer tapped the wall.
"Hollow."
Nathan's heartbeat quickened.
"There."
The officers searched until one found a hidden release beneath an old electrical box.
Click.
Part of the wall slid sideways.
A narrow passage opened.
Cold air rushed out.
Nathan looked at Collins.
"They built a secret escape."
She nodded.
"And someone used it minutes ago."
The hidden tunnel twisted beneath the hospital.
Old pipes ran overhead.
The air smelled damp.
Nathan noticed something on the floor.
A faded blue marble.
He picked it up.
Daniel had one exactly like it.
He remembered kneeling on the living-room floor years ago, teaching Daniel how to flick marbles into a circle.
Nathan closed his hand around it.
"He was here."
The tunnel ended at a heavy wooden door.
This one wasn't locked.
Nathan pushed it open.
Inside...
was a child's bedroom.
Not a hospital room.
A bedroom.
A neatly made bed.
Books stacked on a shelf.
A small desk.
A window looking into an underground courtyard lit by artificial lights.
Someone had lived here.
For years.
Officer Collins slowly walked to the bookshelf.
Every book carried the same handwritten name.
Noah.
Nathan opened the closet.
Children's clothes.
All carefully folded.
The newest shirts looked only months old.
"He wasn't abandoned," Nathan whispered.
"Someone has been taking care of him."
A detective called from the desk.
"There's a journal."
Nathan hurried over.
The cover was worn.
Blue cloth.
Inside, the handwriting began large and uneven, growing steadier over the years.
My name is Noah.
Nathan swallowed hard.
The next line made his chest tighten.
Dr. Whitmore says I must never let anyone see me because the world thinks I died.
Nathan turned another page.
I saw Daniel today. He doesn't know I'm his brother. I wanted to wave, but Dr. Whitmore said it would ruin everything.
Another page.
Dad came today. He smiled at Daniel but never looked at me. I don't think he knows I exist.
Nathan's vision blurred.
"I didn't know..."
His voice broke.
"I swear I didn't know."
Officer Collins gently took the journal.
Farther into it, one page had been torn halfway out.
Only a few sentences remained.
Victoria cried when she found me.
She promised she would tell Dad.
After that... everything became dangerous.
Nathan slowly looked up.
Victoria had been telling the truth about one thing.
She had known Noah.
Suddenly, a radio crackled.
"Detective Collins!"
She answered immediately.
"Go ahead."
"We've got movement on the hospital's east security cameras."
"Who?"
"A child."
Nathan grabbed the radio.
"Is it Noah?"
The officer hesitated.
"We're not sure."
"Why not?"
"Because..."
A long pause.
"There are two boys."
Nathan froze.
"What?"
"They're running together."
Officer Collins looked at him.
"Daniel is upstairs."
Nathan nodded slowly.
"I know."
The officer's voice came again.
"They look identical."
Nathan's heart pounded.
"Keep eyes on them!"
"We're trying!"
Another burst of static.
Then shouting.
"They split up!"
"One headed toward the parking garage."
"The other toward the river access tunnel."
Nathan didn't hesitate.
"Collins, take the parking garage."
"And you?"
Nathan looked at the journal in his hand.
The last unfinished sentence stared back at him.
If Dad ever finds this...
The rest of the page had been ripped away.
Nathan closed the journal.
"I'm going after the tunnel."
He sprinted back into the darkness.
Because for the first time that night, he wasn't chasing answers anymore.
He was chasing a son who had spent eight years believing his own father had abandoned him.
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And somewhere beneath St. Mary's...
someone else was trying to make sure father and son never met.
