Chapter 4 - THE MAN BEHIND THE GLASS
Emergency lights turned the hospital corridor red.
Bruno rose before the darkness settled. His body covered Elena's bed. Tony pulled Rosa and Tomas into the bathroom while Detective Brooks called for backup.
Glass cracked behind me.
A masked man came through the observation panel with a metal bar raised above his head. I caught his wrist, drove him into the wall, and heard the bar hit the floor. He was younger than I expected. Terrified. Desperate.
He reached for something inside his jacket.
Bruno's growl stopped him.
Brooks tore off the mask.
The attacker was Dr. Stephen Fallon, the county medical examiner who had signed Elena's death certificate.
"You declared her dead," Brooks said.
Fallon's lips trembled. "I was given the file. I never examined her."
"You signed anyway."
"They had pictures of my son buying pills. They said they would send him to prison."
"Who are they?"
Fallon looked at me. "Your family."
The words were so absurd that I almost laughed.
"I have no family left in this business."
"You have an uncle."
The room became still.
Enzo Moretti had retired seven years earlier after a stroke. He lived behind gates in Long Island, attended church twice a week, and claimed he could barely remember which day it was.
He had also built half the routes I now controlled.
"Enzo cannot walk without help," I said.
Fallon gave a bitter smile. "He walks fine when no one is watching."
Brooks searched his pockets and found a key card from a private rehabilitation center owned by one of Harlan's shell companies.
A nurse restored the power. The glass doors unlocked. Uniformed officers filled the hall.
Fallon sank into a chair.
"Elena was not the first child," he said. "Three others were marked dead after transport accidents. No bodies were released to their families."
Rosa began to cry.
I looked at Bruno, then at the small girl under the hospital blanket.
My routes. My name. My uncle.
A system built in the dark beneath my feet.
Tony pulled me aside. "Boss, we have another problem."
He showed me a message on his phone.
A photograph of Marco standing beside Enzo Moretti.
It had been taken ten minutes earlier.
May you like
Below it were six words.
BRING THE GIRL, OR TOMAS DIES.
