Chapter 7 - When the Monster Calls
It happened on a cold, rainy Tuesday night in early November.
The storm outside battered the high windows of Sacred Heart Hospital. Inside room 412, Natalie was resting comfortably, her belly now round and heavy. Samuel was sitting in the armchair beside her bed, reviewing her latest lab results under the soft glow of a reading lamp.
Suddenly, the landline telephone on Natalie’s bedside table rang.
In high-risk trauma cases involving criminal violence, hospital phones were scrubbed and unlisted. Only the nurse’s station and official departments could dial directly into the room.
Samuel reached over and picked up the receiver before the second ring. “Room 412. Dr. Vance speaking.”
Silence met his voice for two long seconds. Then, a low, smooth, chilling voice spoke through the receiver.
“Put my wife on the phone, Doctor.”
Samuel’s hand tightened on the receiver until his knuckles turned ghost-white. He recognized the voice instantly from the police audio files Miller had shared with him. It was Blake Morgan.
“You,” Samuel said, his tone dropping into a cold, lethal register. “You coward.”
On the bed, Natalie sat up instantly, her eye wide with terror. “Is that... is that Blake?”
Samuel raised a hand to calm her, his eyes locking onto hers with absolute protectiveness.
“I know who you are, Dr. Vance,” Blake sneered over the static of the line. “I’ve been watching the news. I know she survived. I know she’s in your care. But she knows too much. She thinks she can take my money, ruin my life, and raise my child with some old doctor holding her hand?”
“You will never touch her again,” Samuel said, his voice terrifyingly calm, driven by a father’s rage. “You tried to destroy her, Blake. But you failed. She is alive. Her child is alive. And you have nowhere left to run.”
“Tell her I’m coming for what’s mine,” Blake hissed. “She can’t hide in that hospital forever. The moment she walks out those doors, I’ll finish what I started.”
Click.
The line went dead.
Samuel immediately hit the emergency intercom button on the wall. “Nurse’s station! This is Dr. Vance! Secure the floor immediately! Blake Morgan just placed a direct call to this room! Contact Detective Miller now!”
Within three minutes, the hospital went into a targeted lockdown. Armed police officers flooded the corridor outside room 412. Detective Miller arrived twenty minutes later, his coat soaked with rain.
“How did he get the direct extension?” Miller asked, his expression furious as his team inspected the telephone junction box down the hall.
“He tapped into the hospital’s automated main directory line using a spoofing app,” the hospital IT director explained, holding a tablet. “He made the call from a prepaid burner cell phone located within a two-mile radius of this building.”
“He’s close,” Miller said, looking at Samuel and Natalie. “He’s desperate. His offshore accounts were frozen by the FBI yesterday afternoon. He has no money, no escape route, and he knows his only chance to avoid a life sentence without parole is if Natalie isn't able to testify against him.”
Natalie sat up in bed, holding her belly, her breathing fast and shallow. “He’s coming here, isn't he? He wants to kill us both.”
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Samuel sat down on the edge of her bed and took both of her hands in his. He looked deep into her eyes.
“Listen to me, Maya,” he said, using her true name with fierce affection. “Thirty years ago, I lost you because I wasn't there to protect you from the fire. I am here now. I will not let anything happen to you or my granddaughter. He will never, ever hurt you again.”
