Chapter 3 - The Girl Who Had Nothing to Lose
Lena did not sleep.
At 3:17 a.m., she sat on the edge of a guest bed worth more than every apartment she had ever rented combined and stared at a photograph of herself taken eleven months earlier.
Someone had been searching for her.
Before the river.
Before Adrian Vale.
Before tonight.
The question was why.
She opened her backpack.
Her mother's photograph remained inside.
Lena took it out.
Elaine Mercer had been forty-nine when the photograph was taken.
Brown hair.
Brown eyes.
A smile that always seemed slightly crooked because she laughed before cameras finished taking pictures.
“You knew something,” Lena whispered.
She didn't know why she said it.
Perhaps because grief turned unanswered questions into conversations with the dead.
A knock came.
Lena slid the photograph beneath the blanket.
“Come in.”
Adrian entered.
He had changed into a black sweater and dark pants.
No jacket.
No gold chain.
Without the armor of expensive clothing and armed men, he almost looked ordinary.
Almost.
“You should be resting,” Lena said.
“So should you.”
“I wasn't the one trapped in a sinking car.”
“You were the one who entered it voluntarily.”
“Still judging me?”
“Absolutely.”
He remained near the doorway.
Lena appreciated that.
“You found anything?”
“About the search request?”
She nodded.
“No.”
“Who has access to that database?”
“Private investigators. Security contractors. Certain financial institutions. People willing to pay.”
“Wonderful.”
“We'll find out.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
Lena stood.
“No.”
Adrian's eyebrow lifted.
“You're not turning my life into one of your investigations.”
“Someone was searching for you.”
“That's my problem.”
“Someone tried to kill me tonight and began searching for you within an hour.”
“That part is your problem.”
“They may be the same people.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
He paused.
“But coincidences make me uncomfortable.”
Lena laughed softly.
“You nearly drowned and coincidences make you uncomfortable?”
Adrian moved closer.
“Why did you stop nursing school?”
“I told you.”
“Your mother.”
“Yes.”
“What hospital?”
“St. Vincent North.”
He stopped.
Lena noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was definitely something.”
Adrian's face became unreadable.
“Who treated her?”
“Why?”
“Answer.”
Lena immediately stiffened.
“No.”
“Lena.”
“You don't command me.”
He exhaled.
“Please.”
The word sounded strange coming from him.
She considered.
“Dr. Malcolm Reeves was her oncologist.”
Adrian's expression changed again.
This time Lena saw it clearly.
Recognition.
“You know him.”
“No.”
“You know the name.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Adrian walked toward the window.
Snow had begun falling over Manhattan.
“Reeves sits on the board of the Vale Medical Foundation.”
Lena stared.
“Your foundation?”
“My family's.”
A strange pressure formed in her chest.
“What does that mean?”
“Maybe nothing.”
“Stop saying that.”
He turned.
“Six years ago, the foundation funded an experimental oncology program at St. Vincent North.”
Lena stopped breathing.
“What program?”
“I don't remember the details.”
“My mother participated in a trial.”
Adrian went completely still.
“What trial?”
“VMX-17.”
He looked toward the door.
“Gabriel.”
The door opened immediately.
Lena nearly jumped.
“Does he live in the hallway?”
“Sometimes,” Adrian said.
Gabriel entered.
“Find everything on VMX-17.”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“Why?”
“Elaine Mercer.”
Lena watched recognition appear in Gabriel's face too.
“You know my mother?”
“No.”
“Then why did you react?”
Gabriel looked at Adrian.
Adrian answered.
“VMX-17 was terminated.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“My mother received it fourteen months ago.”
Silence.
Lena felt the room tilt.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You're wrong.”
Adrian said nothing.
“I sat beside her while they administered it.”
“Are you certain of the code?”
“Yes.”
“Could it have been another—”
“I memorized everything.”
Her voice rose.
“Dosages. Medications. Treatment schedules. Every damn number because I thought if I learned enough, asked enough questions, maybe I could keep her alive.”
Adrian stopped speaking.
Lena's hands began trembling.
Not cold now.
Anger.
“She received VMX-17.”
Gabriel opened his phone.
“I'll verify.”
He left.
Lena stared at Adrian.
“Why was it terminated?”
“I don't know.”
“You own the foundation.”
“I don't run its medical programs.”
“How convenient.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was running operations overseas at the time.”
“My mother is dead.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
The words came harder now.
“You don't know what that means.”
Adrian didn't interrupt.
“I watched her lose weight until I could lift her by myself. I watched her apologize because I quit school. She apologized to me while she was dying.”
Lena's voice broke.
“I spent every dollar we had because doctors told us the treatment might help.”
Adrian's expression softened.
“And now you're telling me the treatment had already been canceled?”
“I’m telling you we need facts.”
“I had facts.”
Lena grabbed her backpack.
“I had doctors.”
“Lena.”
“I had paperwork.”
She stopped.
Paperwork.
Her breathing changed.
Adrian noticed.
“What?”
“My mother kept everything.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
Lena closed her eyes.
After Elaine died, the apartment had been lost.
Lena had sold furniture.
Boxes went to storage.
Then storage payments stopped.
Most possessions were auctioned.
Except—
“There's a box.”
“Where?”
“A church.”
Adrian waited.
“St. Catherine's.”
“Why?”
“My mother volunteered there. Sister Margaret let me leave one box when I lost the apartment.”
“What’s inside?”
“I never opened it.”
Adrian reached for his phone.
Lena grabbed his wrist.
“No army.”
His eyes dropped to her hand.
She released him.
“We go quietly.”
“You're not going anywhere tonight.”
“It's my box.”
“Someone is searching for you.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian considered her.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“We go together.”
“I didn't invite you.”
“You also didn't invite me into the river.”
Lena glared.
He almost smiled.
Two hours later, a discreet SUV stopped outside a small church in Queens.
Snow covered the steps.
Sister Margaret opened the door wearing slippers beneath her habit.
She took one look at Lena.
Then hugged her.
Lena nearly collapsed.
“My child.”
“Hi, Sister.”
“We thought you had disappeared.”
“I sort of did.”
Margaret held her face.
“You're too thin.”
Adrian stood several feet away.
The nun looked at him.
Then at the two security men outside.
“Friends?”
Lena sighed.
“It's complicated.”
“Those are always the interesting ones.”
Adrian coughed.
Twenty minutes later, Margaret led them into the basement.
Rows of donated clothes filled one wall.
Boxes another.
“Your mother's things are here.”
She pointed toward a shelf.
Empty.
Lena stopped.
“No.”
Margaret frowned.
“It was there.”
“When did you last see it?”
“Yesterday.”
Adrian immediately looked around.
“Who has basement access?”
“Staff. Volunteers.”
Margaret's face changed.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“A man came yesterday.”
Lena's heart accelerated.
“What man?”
“He said he was from the hospital.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked about Elaine.”
Adrian and Lena exchanged a look.
“Description?” Adrian asked.
“Tall. Gray coat. Maybe fifty.”
“Name?”
“He gave me a card.”
Margaret searched a desk.
Then found it.
Adrian took the card.
His face became cold.
Lena looked.
DR. MALCOLM REEVES.
Her mother's oncologist.
“He came here?”
Margaret nodded.
“He asked whether Elaine left medical documents.”
Lena felt sick.
“Did you tell him?”
“I told him I didn't know.”
“But the box is gone.”
“Yes.”
Adrian turned toward Gabriel.
“Lock down every exit.”
Margaret looked alarmed.
Adrian softened his voice.
“Figuratively, Sister.”
Lena stared at the empty shelf.
Someone had taken the box one day before Adrian's crash.
Not after.
Before.
The timing was impossible.
Unless—
“This wasn't because I saved you.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“The search.”
She turned.
“They weren't looking for me because of tonight.”
Her pulse pounded.
“They were already looking.”
Adrian's phone rang.
Gabriel.
He answered.
Listened.
Then his eyes found Lena.
“What?”
Adrian ended the call.
“Gabriel found the archived VMX-17 trial records.”
“And?”
“Your mother wasn't listed.”
Lena stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“Officially, Elaine Mercer never received the drug.”
“But she did.”
“I believe you.”
“Then somebody changed the records.”
“Yes.”
Lena looked at the empty shelf.
Adrian's voice became quieter.
“And someone just stole whatever could prove it.”
A floorboard creaked above them.
Everyone stopped.
Adrian looked toward the basement stairs.
A shadow moved beneath the door.
Then something slid down the steps.
A photograph.
It stopped at Lena’s feet.
She picked it up.
Her mother stood outside St. Vincent North.
Beside her was Dr. Reeves.
And another man.
Lena had never seen him.
Adrian had.
His face drained of color.
“Who is he?” Lena whispered.
Adrian stared at the photograph.
May you like
“My father.”
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