Part 7: Ward B
The maintenance tunnel narrowed as they pressed deeper into the subterranean foundation of St. Matthew, the air growing cooler and smelling faintly of damp stone and old iron. Adrian led the way with steady, deliberate steps, his flashlight beam cutting through the gloom to reveal junctions of rusted water pipes and tangled electrical conduits.
Sophie walked closely behind Adrian, her small hand tightly gripping the back of his gray work jacket. Despite the eerie surroundings, she hadn't made a single sound of complaint, her fierce little protector—Button the rabbit—tucked firmly under her arm. Elena brought up the rear, her eyes scanning the darkness behind them, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
After roughly ten minutes of silent marching, Adrian stopped in front of a heavy steel access hatch set into the concrete floor. A faded yellow stencil on the metal read: DANGEROUS AREA - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY - SUB-LEVEL 3 WARD B ACCESS.
“This is it,” Adrian whispered over his shoulder, turning off his flashlight to avoid casting beams through the wire-reinforced glass panel set into the hatch door above. “We’re directly beneath Ward B.”
Elena stepped up beside him, peering down into the darkness. “Is there security down there?”
“Normally, no,” Adrian replied, pulling a small electronic decryption device from his tool bag and plugging it into the digital keypad beside the hatch. “Ward B was officially decommissioned on paper five years ago to pass state sanitary inspections. Cross uses it as his private laboratory. Security patrols up top rarely come down here because they don’t have Level 5 biometric clearance.”
A soft series of green indicator lights flashed across the decryption tool, followed by a heavy mechanical clunk as the internal deadbolts retracted. Adrian pushed the hatch upward, and a rush of sterile, chilled air billowed out from the stairwell below.
“Lead the way,” Elena said softly.
They descended the concrete stairs into a narrow, brightly lit hallway that looked completely different from the rest of the hospital. The walls were painted a stark, clinical white, lined with heavy reinforced glass doors instead of traditional wooden ones. There was an eerie, dead silence in the hallway—no chatter of nurses, no beeping of standard monitors, only the low, rhythmic hum of high-end medical equipment coming from behind closed doors.
Adrian motioned for Elena and Sophie to stay pressed against the wall while he approached the first door on the left. He tapped his encrypted scanner against the glass reader. The green light blinked.
The door slid open with a soft hiss.
Elena peered inside, her breath catching sharply in her throat. The room was set up like a specialized pediatric recovery suite, filled with advanced telemetry monitors. And sitting up in the middle of the small medical bed, wearing a pale blue hospital gown, was a little girl with bright blonde hair and wide, frightened blue eyes.
Grace.
For a second, time seemed to stop entirely. Elena stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the living mirror image of the daughter holding her hand in the hallway outside.
Grace looked up, blinking against the bright light, her gaze locking onto Elena.
“Mommy?” Grace whispered, her voice trembling with an uncertainty that broke Elena’s heart into a million pieces.
Elena rushed across the room, dropping to her knees beside the bed and wrapping her arms around her lost daughter, burying her face in Grace’s shoulder as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m here, my sweet baby. I’m right here. I’m never leaving you again.”
Grace clung to her mother with fierce desperation, sobbing softly into her collarbone.
Standing in the doorway, Sophie slowly walked into the room, holding Button out in front of her like a peace offering. She stared at the little girl in the bed, tilting her head with innocent curiosity.
“Is this my sister?” Sophie asked softly, looking up at Adrian.
Adrian offered a gentle, tired smile, resting a warm hand on Sophie’s head. “Yes, Sophie. That’s your twin.”
Before anyone could speak another word, a sharp, piercing alarm echoed through the subterranean corridor, flooding the white walls with an ominous red emergency light.
A familiar, cold voice boomed over the facility's intercom system:
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“Dr. Cole. Mrs. Hayes. Your little excursion has come to an end. Please remain where you are. Security is already at the stairwells.”
Dr. Victor Cross had found them.
