Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT THE HOSPITAL BURNED
The fire began at 2:13 a.m.
At first, it appeared to be an electrical malfunction inside the hospital's administrative tower.
Then the fire alarms activated on three floors simultaneously.
Security cameras went offline.
Emergency exits near the old research wing locked.
And the hospital's backup generators failed.
Norah was at Grace's farmhouse when the first alert arrived.
Her phone displayed a message from Dr. Sloane.
FIRE. MULTIPLE PATIENTS TRAPPED. NEED HELP.
Norah stood immediately.
Dominic saw her expression.
"No."
She grabbed her coat.
"People are trapped."
"Emergency crews are responding."
"They don't know the layout of Ward Seven."
"Neither do you."
"I know more than they do."
He stepped in front of her.
"Norah, this could be deliberate."
"Then the people inside are in even more danger."
Grace approached.
"The research records were stored there. If someone wants to destroy evidence, the fire makes sense."
Dominic looked toward the window.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he picked up his phone.
"I'll coordinate with the fire department."
Norah stared.
"You're coming?"
"I'm not sending you into a burning building alone."
She shook her head.
"You're not trained for that."
"Neither are the people who started the fire."
"Dominic."
He stopped.
She stepped closer.
"I need you to trust me to do my job."
The words hung between them.
Finally, he nodded.
"I'll get you to the hospital. After that, you answer to the incident commander."
It wasn't the answer he wanted to give.
Norah knew that.
Which made it matter more.
---
The emergency department was chaos.
Smoke drifted through the ambulance bay.
Paramedics arrived carrying injured patients.
Nurses shouted for oxygen.
Firefighters moved through the corridors.
Norah reported to the medical staging officer.
Within minutes, she was helping triage patients evacuated from the upper floors.
A woman with severe smoke inhalation gripped her hand.
"My husband is still upstairs."
"We're looking for him."
"Please."
Norah squeezed her fingers.
"We won't forget him."
For the next hour, she worked without stopping.
She stabilized an elderly man with cardiac complications.
Helped transfer a premature infant to a neighboring hospital.
Comforted a frightened maintenance worker who had suffered burns.
Then she saw Thomas Mercer.
He was being pushed toward an ambulance.
His oxygen mask had slipped.
Norah moved to adjust it.
He caught her wrist.
"Seven," he rasped.
"I know."
"No."
His eyes widened.
"Seven isn't a floor."
Norah froze.
"What?"
"Seven is the number."
He tried to speak again.
A coughing fit interrupted him.
A paramedic moved him into the ambulance.
Norah stood motionless.
The seventh floor.
Liam's message.
The archived research wing.
What if they had misunderstood the clue from the beginning?
She pulled out her notebook.
Project Harborlight.
Ward Seven.
Seven patients.
Seven shipments.
Seven accounts.
Then she remembered the old photograph of Eleanor and Elena.
Seven people stood in the background.
Not three.
Seven.
---
At 4:26 a.m., firefighters discovered that the seventh-floor research wing had been deliberately sealed from inside.
The fire marshal confirmed signs of arson.
Dominic received a phone call from a hospital executive.
He listened.
Then his expression changed.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Are you certain?"
He hung up and approached Norah.
"We found Voss."
"Alive?"
Dominic shook his head.
Norah closed her eyes.
Dr. Adrian Voss had died in the fire.
At first glance, it appeared he had been trapped while trying to escape.
But the autopsy would later show evidence that someone had assaulted him before the flames reached his office.
Norah looked toward the smoke rising above the building.
"They're eliminating witnesses."
"Yes."
"And destroying evidence."
"Yes."
She met Dominic's eyes.
"Then whoever is behind this knows we're getting close."
---
By sunrise, the hospital had evacuated most of its patients.
The fire was contained.
Three employees were in critical condition.
Miraculously, nobody else had died.
Norah sat on the curb outside the ambulance entrance.
Her scrubs smelled of smoke.
Her hands were blistered.
Dominic approached carrying a bottle of water.
She accepted it.
"How many?" he asked.
"Three critical. One stable after surgery. Everyone else accounted for."
He sat beside her.
For a while, they watched firefighters coil their hoses.
Then Norah said, "I used to think hospitals were the safest places in the world."
Dominic looked at the damaged building.
"Nothing is safe when people with power decide rules don't apply to them."
She turned toward him.
"That includes you."
He met her gaze.
"I know."
Norah studied his face.
He looked exhausted.
The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened.
But something had changed.
He no longer seemed interested in controlling every outcome.
He seemed interested in doing the right thing, even when he couldn't guarantee success.
She reached for his hand.
He looked down at their joined fingers.
Then back at her.
"Why?"
"Because you're still here."
---
At nine thirty, Grace called.
Her voice was urgent.
"I found Evelyn Mercer."
Norah sat up.
"Where?"
"She contacted a federal witness-protection attorney. She's alive, but she won't reveal her location until we identify the person funding Harborlight."
Dominic leaned toward the phone.
"Did she mention Liam?"
"Yes."
Norah gripped the device.
"What did she say?"
Grace hesitated.
"She said Liam escaped the Tarasovs three days ago."
Norah's heart leaped.
"Then why hasn't he come home?"
"Because someone else has him."
"Who?"
Grace took a breath.
"She says the person responsible isn't working for Alexi Tarasov."
Dominic's expression darkened.
Grace continued.
"He's working for the Russo family."
Then she added the detail that changed everything.
May you like
"Norah, there's a photograph of Liam entering Dominic's estate two nights before your wedding."
---
