Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Archive
Rain battered the windshield of Dr. Vale’s sedan as we sped toward Bellweather Children’s Hospital. The massive concrete structure loomed against the night sky like a fortress. To the world, it was a sanctuary of healing; to us, it was a trap built on stolen lives.
"The main entrance will be locked to visitors," Dr. Vale stated as we pulled into the underground staff garage. "Vance put security on high alert after your suspension."
"I don't need the main entrance," I replied, pulling a spare keycard and a worn brass master key from my pocket. "Environmental Services has access to the sub-basement freight tunnels. We can reach Step-Down Unit 4B through the laundry chute maintenance corridor."
We slipped out of the car, keeping low beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the garage. I tapped my old keycard at the service door—it buzzed, glowing red. Access denied.
"They revoked your clearance," Dr. Vale whispered.
"I figured," I said, pulling out my brass master key and inserting it into the manual override slot behind the card reader. With a soft click, the heavy steel door swung open.
We crept through the subterranean dampness of the sub-basement, where giant steam pipes hissed like warning snakes. As we passed the medical records vault, I stopped.
"Wait," I muttered. "If they are moving Ivy tonight, Vance will need her physical master file to wipe the local database."
"The vault is restricted to senior staff," Dr. Vale said.
"And I know the maintenance code for the vault’s fire suppression system," I smiled grimly.
Using my cleaning knowledge, I opened the wall panel beside the door and flipped the manual duct release. The heavy magnetic lock on the archive door disengaged with a loud thud.
We slipped inside the cold room, rows of ceiling-high shelves filled with paper records stretching out before us. I sprinted toward the 'W' section, searching for Ivy Ward's physical folder.
Suddenly, a flashlight beam cut through the darkness.
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"Looking for this, Ms. Cole?"
We froze. Stepping out from behind a row of filing cabinets was Dr. Arthur Vance, holding a thick manila folder under his arm. Beside him stood two armed security officers—and Nurse Delia Voss.
