Chapter 3 - Seven Months of Lies
Mina had written everything twice.
Almost everything.
That was the reason she was still useful.
She had begun the notebook because hospital records could be changed.
But nurses learned redundancy.
If a medication mattered, you checked the chart and the label.
If a patient deteriorated, you watched the monitor and the patient.
If information could disappear, you kept another copy.
At 4:12 a.m., Mina removed her phone from her pocket.
Gabriel watched her.
“What are you doing?”
“I photographed several pages.”
His expression changed.
“Where are they?”
“In an encrypted folder.”
“Anyone know?”
“No.”
Octavio opened his eyes.
“Show me.”
“You need rest.”
“Show me.”
Mina sighed.
“Being unconscious made you no less stubborn.”
Gabriel looked almost offended.
“You have no idea.”
Mina pulled up the images.
They gathered around the bed.
Her notes were ordinary at first.
November 8 — Sedation dosage increased without explanation.
November 14 — unfamiliar respiratory consultant, access badge not recognized.
December 2 — night nurse says room empty of visitors; access log shows two entries.
December 19 — medication order changed twice within forty minutes.
January 4 — Dr. Ward’s electronic signature attached to order she later said she didn’t place.
January 27 — unknown man accompanied by hospital administration, refused to identify himself.
February 11 — Octavio responded to music.
February 18 — possible response to company name.
March 3 — eye movement toward noise.
March 7 — security camera outside Room 1208 offline for thirty-eight minutes.
Tonight was March 11.
Gabriel looked at Mina.
“You’ve been watching this for four months.”
“I've been noticing it for four months.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“I did not know who ‘us’ was.”
Gabriel frowned.
Mina met his gaze.
“You’re armed men guarding an alleged crime boss.”
Octavio made a faint sound.
She looked down.
He was almost smiling.
“Something funny?”
He shook his head.
Gabriel ignored both of them.
“Who did you trust?”
“Nobody.”
“Smart.”
Mina scrolled.
Then stopped.
There was one note she had forgotten.
February 23 — male visitor, approximately 50, dark overcoat, allowed entry by hospital administration. Spoke privately beside patient for 17 minutes. Heard phrase: “Once the board signs, it won’t matter whether he wakes.”
Octavio went still.
Gabriel noticed.
“You know who said that?”
Octavio closed his eyes.
A memory passed behind his face.
“Victor.”
“Victor Rane?”
Octavio nodded.
Gabriel swore softly.
Mina looked between them.
“Who is Victor Rane?”
Octavio answered.
“My partner.”
Gabriel corrected him.
“Your oldest friend.”
That sounded worse.
Victor Rane had grown up with Octavio on the Southwest Side.
They had been teenagers together.
Young men together.
They had built businesses together.
By thirty, newspapers referred to them as the two pillars of the Rain organization.
Octavio controlled strategy.
Victor controlled operations.
When Octavio's SUV crashed, Victor became temporary head of everything.
Companies.
Property.
Security.
Money.
People.
“Board,” Mina said. “What board?”
“Rain Consolidated,” Gabriel explained. “Legitimate holdings. Construction. Shipping. Property management.”
“And the other holdings?”
Gabriel gave her a careful look.
“We're focusing on the legitimate ones.”
Mina understood.
Octavio whispered,
“Seven months…”
His voice carried anger now.
Gabriel leaned closer.
“What do you remember?”
Octavio stared toward the ceiling.
“Rain.”
“The weather?”
He shook his head.
“Road.”
“Lake Shore?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
Octavio squeezed his eyes closed.
His heart rate rose.
Mina touched his shoulder.
“Stop.”
Gabriel wanted to continue.
She blocked him.
“No.”
“Mina—”
“No. His brain has been injured. You cannot interrogate him.”
“He may remember who tried to kill him.”
“He may also seizure if you push him too hard.”
Octavio looked at her.
“Always this bossy?”
“Only with terrible patients.”
A tiny corner of his mouth moved.
Then his eyes closed.
The room became quiet.
Gabriel stepped aside with Mina.
“If Victor did this—”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
“But you think he could?”
Gabriel looked through the glass wall toward the corridor.
“Seven months changes people.”
“Did Victor visit often?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“Less.”
“Why?”
“Because he was running the organization.”
Mina studied him.
“You don't trust him.”
Gabriel took a long breath.
“I trust what I can prove.”
Good answer.
The kind she would have given.
“Then prove it.”
Gabriel looked at her phone.
“With those photographs?”
“They establish manipulation. Not murder.”
“What would?”
“The original hospital access database. Medication audit logs. Camera records. Pharmacy changes.”
Gabriel glanced toward the doorway.
“Can you access those?”
“Some.”
“The rest?”
“Administration.”
“And administration may be compromised.”
“Exactly.”
Octavio spoke from behind them.
“Ward.”
Mina turned.
“Dr. Ward?”
He nodded.
“What about her?”
His brow tightened.
“Voice.”
Gabriel came closer.
“You remember her voice?”
Octavio shook his head.
“During coma.”
Mina froze.
“Octavio, are you saying you could hear people?”
His eyes opened.
There was fear there now.
Not the fear of a powerful man losing control.
Something older.
More helpless.
“Yes.”
Mina slowly sat beside the bed.
“How much?”
“Pieces.”
“You understood them?”
“Sometimes.”
“Could you move?”
“No.”
The single word carried seven months of horror.
Mina had seen patients in altered states.
She understood what locked-in awareness could mean.
Imagine hearing strangers around you.
Hearing plans.
Hearing threats.
And being unable to open your eyes.
“What did Dr. Ward say?” Mina asked carefully.
Octavio swallowed.
“Not her.”
“Then why say Ward?”
“She argued.”
“With whom?”
His breathing accelerated.
Mina watched the monitor.
“Slow down.”
Octavio's fingers clenched.
“Man.”
“What man?”
“Wanted…”
He stopped.
Mina waited.
“Wanted sedation increased.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“And Dr. Ward refused?”
Octavio nodded.
Mina remembered one of the suspicious dosage changes.
Maybe Helen Ward wasn’t responsible.
Maybe someone had forged her approval because she had refused.
“Do you know the man?”
Octavio tried to remember.
Pain twisted his expression.
“Voice…”
Then nothing.
Mina touched his arm.
“Enough.”
He looked frustrated.
“Enough,” she repeated.
This time he listened.
At 5:30 a.m., dawn began turning the windows gray.
Police detectives arrived.
Federal agents followed.
Hospital lawyers arrived next.
Everyone wanted the same thing.
Access.
Statements.
Control.
Gabriel allowed none of them into the room until Octavio’s physicians approved.
Mina stood near the window, drinking terrible coffee.
For the first time all night, she allowed herself to think about her own life.
Her apartment.
Her car in the parking garage.
Her mother who lived forty minutes outside the city.
If someone wanted the notebook, would they go there?
She pulled out her phone.
There was a message from an unknown number.
No text.
Just a photograph.
Mina stared at it.
Her own apartment door.
Taken from the hallway.
Tonight.
Below it appeared five words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HIM DIE.
Mina’s coffee slipped from her hand.
The cup hit the floor.
Across the room, Octavio opened his eyes instantly.
Gabriel rushed toward her.
“What happened?”
Mina showed him.
For the first time since the attack, Gabriel looked genuinely alarmed.
Octavio extended his hand.
Mina brought him the phone.
He read the message.
Something cold entered his face.
When he looked up, his voice was still weak.
But there was no weakness in the command.
“Get her out of Chicago.”
Mina shook her head.
“No.”
Every man in the room turned toward her.
Octavio stared.
Mina stepped closer.
“If they’re watching my apartment, leaving makes me easier to track.”
“You stay here, they come again.”
“Then we find out who they are.”
Octavio studied her.
“You're a nurse.”
“Yes.”
“Not a soldier.”
“No.”
“Then why aren't you afraid?”
Mina looked at him.
“I am.”
That seemed to surprise him.
“I’m just not letting frightened people make my decisions.”
Octavio said nothing.
Then Gabriel’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face slowly hardened.
“What?”
Octavio asked.
Gabriel lowered the phone.
“The hospital audit team checked your access history.”
Mina's stomach tightened.
“And?”
“Someone used your employee credentials eighteen minutes ago.”
Mina stared at him.
“I’m standing here.”
“I know.”
“Where?”
Gabriel looked toward the elevators.
“Pharmacy.”
Mina felt the pieces connect.
Someone had stolen the notebook.
Someone had cloned her credentials.
And now whoever was inside the hospital had just made their first mistake.
Because they thought Mina was only watching.
May you like
They did not realize she had started hunting back.
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