Chapter 7: The Secret Inside Unit 317
"Michael wasn't the only person who survived that night.""
Andrew's words kept repeating in my head long after the call ended.
I looked at Richard.
"What did he mean?""
Richard shook his head.
"I don't know.""
Victoria clutched the silver key.
"Maybe he's talking about the truck driver.""
"Then why would he say it like that?"" Emily asked.
Nobody answered.
Twenty-five minutes later, our two vehicles pulled into a storage facility on the outskirts of the city. It was an old industrial complex surrounded by chain-link fencing and security cameras. Rain had begun falling, tapping against the windshield.
James got out first.
Two security officers followed.
I remained in my wheelchair while Emily helped position a portable ramp beside the vehicle.
"Are you sure you want to do this tonight?"" she asked.
"After five years, I don't think I can wait another day.""
Richard approached, holding his phone.
"Andrew hasn't called again.""
"Good.""
Victoria stood a few feet away, looking toward the storage buildings.
She hadn't spoken since we'd left the ballroom.
I looked at her.
"Do you know what's inside?""
"No.""
"Do you know why Michael gave you the key?""
She nodded slowly.
"He said it contained proof that someone had been stealing from MotionBridge. He also said there was something inside that belonged to you.""
"What?""
"I don't know.""
I looked at the number on the metal tag.
317.
James checked the facility directory.
"Building C. Third row.""
We moved down a narrow corridor between rows of metal doors.
The air smelled of wet concrete and old cardboard.
When we reached Unit 317, Victoria stopped.
Her fingers trembled around the key.
"Daniel?""
"Yes?""
"If there's something inside that proves I helped Andrew, I won't ask you to forgive me.""
I looked at her.
"Good. Because forgiveness isn't something you get to demand.""
She nodded.
Then she unlocked the door.
James pulled the metal shutter upward.
Inside were several cardboard boxes, an old desk, a filing cabinet, and a black suitcase.
Dust covered everything.
I rolled forward.
"Let's start with the filing cabinet.""
James opened the first drawer.
Financial statements.
Hospital contracts.
Bank transfers.
Copies of emails.
The second drawer contained photographs.
I picked up one.
It showed Andrew standing outside St. Mary's Hospital with a man I recognized from the local news.
The man was a former hospital administrator.
On the back, Michael had written:
The person who approved the transfers.
Richard examined another photograph.
"That's Peter Wallace. He was the chief financial officer at St. Mary's.""
"Where is he now?"" I asked.
"Retired, as far as I know.""
James opened a folder.
"Daniel, you need to see this.""
It contained printed emails between Andrew and Peter.
One message was dated three days before my accident.
*Andrew:* Michael has discovered the duplicate invoices. He intends to take everything to Carter.
*Peter:* Then stop him before he reaches the board.
*Andrew:* I'm handling it.
I felt my stomach tighten.
Another message followed.
*Peter:* What about the patient files?
*Andrew:* They remain our leverage. Nobody gets to walk away clean.
Emily read the screen over James's shoulder.
"These people were selling patient information?""
"Apparently," I said.
She looked disgusted.
"My mother was one of those patients.""
I nodded.
And then we found the black suitcase.
It was locked.
Victoria examined the handle.
"Michael told me this was important.""
James tried several combinations without success.
Then Emily noticed a small envelope taped underneath the suitcase.
"There's something here.""
She carefully removed it.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Daniel, the password is the date we met Sarah Parker.
I closed my eyes.
I remembered.
September 14.
I entered the numbers.
The lock clicked.
Inside the suitcase was a laptop, several USB drives, a thick envelope, and a small digital voice recorder.
James powered up the laptop using a portable battery.
A single folder appeared on the desktop.
*IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO ME.*
My hands went cold.
I opened it.
The first file was a video.
Michael appeared on the screen.
He looked tired. His shirt was wrinkled, and there was a small cut above his eyebrow.
But he was alive.
"Daniel," he began, looking directly into the camera.
"If you're watching this, then something has gone terribly wrong.""
I leaned closer.
"I've found proof that Andrew and Peter have been diverting money from the hospital contracts. They've also been selling confidential patient information. I confronted them, and they know I have copies.""
Michael paused.
"There's something else. Victoria has been helping Andrew. I don't know how deeply she's involved, but I've seen the transfers.""
Victoria lowered her head.
Michael continued.
"I don't think Daniel knows. And I don't want him dragged into this until I can protect him.""
I stared at the screen.
Michael rubbed his face.
"Tomorrow night, I'm supposed to meet Andrew. He's promised to give me the original records. I don't believe him.""
He leaned closer to the camera.
"If anything happens, don't assume it was an accident.""
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then James opened the next file.
It was an audio recording.
A man's voice.
Andrew.
"Michael, give me the files.""
Michael replied, "Not until you tell me where the money went.""
"You have no idea what you're dealing with.""
"I know exactly what I'm dealing with.""
Then another voice entered the conversation.
Peter Wallace.
"Andrew, we don't have time for this.""
A chair scraped across the floor.
Andrew spoke again.
"You should have stayed out of it, Michael.""
The recording stopped.
I looked at the digital recorder.
"Is there more?""
James nodded.
"Several files.""
He opened the final recording.
This time, I heard a sound that made my blood run cold.
A truck engine.
Rain.
Then Michael's voice.
"Daniel, listen to me. If I don't make it back, find Sarah's daughter. She has the original—"
A loud crash interrupted him.
Then silence.
Emily covered her mouth.
I looked at her.
"Your mother had the original?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
James examined the remaining documents.
Then he found a folded hospital discharge summary.
It was dated six days after the accident.
The patient's name had been blacked out.
But one line remained visible.
*Patient transferred under witness protection arrangement.*
I stared at the words.
"Who was transferred?""
James enlarged the document.
The name was hidden beneath a black strip, but the initials remained.
M.C.
Michael Carter.
My heart began pounding.
"That's impossible.""
Richard moved closer.
"Daniel, what if—"
Before he could finish, a metallic crash echoed from outside.
James turned toward the entrance.
One of the security officers shouted.
"Someone's outside!""
We heard footsteps.
Then the sound of a car engine starting.
I looked toward the open storage door.
A black SUV was speeding away.
James ran to the entrance, but it was already disappearing into the rain.
On the floor near the doorway lay a small white envelope.
I picked it up.
Inside was a photograph.
A man standing outside a rehabilitation hospital.
Older.
Thinner.
With a scar running along his jaw.
I recognized him immediately.
It was Michael.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
Stop looking, Daniel. Your friend is alive, but he doesn't want to see you.
