Chapter 3: The First Step Toward the Truth
Chapter 3: The First Step Toward the Truth
The storm broke over Lake Michigan just after midnight.
Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian Lombardi's mansion, turning the glittering skyline of Chicago into a blur of silver and black. Lightning flashed across the water, illuminating the room where no one dared to speak.
The thin metallic object glowed like a splinter buried inside history.
Finally, he spoke.
"Lock down the estate."
Gabriel reached for his phone without hesitation.
"No one leaves," Sebastian continued. "No one enters without my permission."
Within seconds, voices crackled through encrypted radios outside the room. Heavy security doors slammed shut throughout the mansion.
The fortress had become a prison.
For everyone.
Including me.
I swallowed.
"I need to go home."
Neither man answered.
"My son is waiting for me."
That finally drew Sebastian's attention away from the monitor.
"Oliver."
The sound of my son's name froze the blood in my veins.
"You know his name."
"I know everything about the people I invite into my home."
"I wasn't invited."
"No."
A shadow crossed his face.
"You were brought."
I stood straighter.
"I agreed to one session. That's over."
"You made my foot move."
"I found a clue."
"You gave me hope."
His voice was steady, but beneath it I heard something more dangerous than anger.
Need.
"I don't sell hope," I replied quietly.
"I treat injuries."
"And if your treatment uncovers the greatest lie of my life?"
I didn't answer.
Because I already knew the truth.
Whatever was hidden inside that MRI had nothing to do with medicine anymore.
Thirty minutes later, Gabriel escorted me to a guest suite instead of the front door.
"I said I was leaving."
"I know."
"Then why are we walking away from the exit?"
He stopped outside an elegant bedroom.
"Mr. Lombardi believes someone may try to silence you."
I laughed once.
A nervous, exhausted laugh.
"I'm a physical therapist."
"Not anymore."
He opened the door.
"Now you're the only person who's made Sebastian Lombardi move in twenty years."
The words landed harder than I expected.
Inside the suite, fresh clothes lay folded on the bed. A tray of food steamed on a polished table.
Someone had even placed a small stuffed bear beside the pillows.
My throat tightened.
It looked exactly like the kind of toy Oliver loved.
Gabriel noticed.
"Our staff guessed you had a child."
"I don't need charity."
"It's not charity."
"What is it?"
He hesitated.
"Insurance."
Before I could ask what he meant, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
Every trace of color disappeared from his face.
"What happened?"
He looked toward the hallway before answering.
"Someone just tried to access the medical archives."
Across town...
St. Catherine's Children's Hospital was unusually quiet.
Oliver sat upright in bed, hugging his inhaler while watching cartoons with the volume turned low.
His nurse smiled.
"Your mom called earlier."
"When's she coming?"
"Soon."
"I don't like sleeping without her."
"I know."
Oliver looked toward the rain-covered window.
"She always comes."
The nurse squeezed his shoulder.
"She will."
Neither of them noticed the man standing across the street.
He remained inside a black sedan with its headlights off.
Watching.
Waiting.
A camera clicked once.
The flash was invisible through the storm.
He lowered a pair of binoculars.
Then dialed a number.
"The boy is confirmed."
A distorted voice answered.
"And the mother?"
"Still inside Lombardi's estate."
Silence.
Then—
"If she discovers the implant..."
The caller paused.
"Neither of them can stay alive."
The line went dead.
Back at the mansion, I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that metal fragment pressing against Sebastian's nerve.
Around two in the morning, someone knocked.
Three soft taps.
Gabriel.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"The archives."
We descended beneath the mansion through an elevator that required both a fingerprint and a retinal scan.
The basement wasn't a wine cellar.
It was a vault.
Thousands of documents lined climate-controlled shelves.
Photographs.
Financial records.
Medical files.
Every piece of Sebastian's life had been preserved.
Gabriel pulled a thick binder from a locked cabinet.
"These are the original hospital records from 2006."
I opened the file.
The pages were yellowed with age.
Emergency surgery.
Spinal trauma.
Blood transfusions.
Neurological assessments.
Everything seemed ordinary.
Until page thirty-seven.
Someone had removed it.
The missing sheet had been cut cleanly from the binding.
Not torn.
Surgically removed.
"Who had access to this?"
Gabriel's expression hardened.
"Only three people."
"Sebastian."
He nodded.
"Myself."
Another nod.
"And Dr. Victor Reynolds."
A chill crawled down my spine.
"The missing page wasn't lost."
"No."
"It was taken."
Before Gabriel could answer, every light in the archive flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the emergency alarm screamed through the mansion.
Red lights flooded the underground vault.
Gabriel grabbed my arm.
"Stay behind me."
"What happened?"
He pressed a hand to the earpiece hidden beneath his collar.
His face went rigid.
"Repeat that."
Static answered.
Then a panicked voice shouted through the radio.
"East security gate breached!"
Another voice cut in.
"Power failure on the lower level!"
A third yelled—
"Shots fired!"
The lights went out completely.
The archive disappeared into darkness.
Somewhere above us, automatic gunfire erupted through the mansion.
Gabriel drew his pistol in one smooth motion.
"They're here."
"Who?"
May you like
His answer was almost lost beneath the echo of exploding glass.
"The people who never wanted Sebastian Lombardi to walk again."
