Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
The name on the request form stared back at me.
For a few seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
Because I knew that name.
I had seen it on reports.
I had trusted that person.
And I had never imagined seeing it connected to my daughter’s suffering.
"Colonel Hart?"
The security officer's voice pulled me back.
I looked up.
"Who authorized this request?"
The officer shifted uncomfortably.
"The request came through the hospital administration system."
"That wasn't my question."
He swallowed.
"Dr. Samuel Reeves."
Emily's face changed immediately.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Fear.
I turned toward her.
"You know him?"
She looked away.
That answer was enough.
"Emily."
She closed her eyes.
"I didn't want to tell you."
I sat beside her.
"Tell me now."
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
"Dr. Reeves was Ethan's family doctor."
The room went quiet.
"Family doctor?"
She nodded.
"Margaret introduced him to me after the wedding."
I felt something cold settle inside me.
"Why would he want your medical records?"
Emily hesitated.
"Because he helped them."
The words were quiet.
But they hit harder than a scream.
"What do you mean?"
She looked at me.
"When Ethan hurt me the first time, he called Dr. Reeves."
My stomach tightened.
"The first time?"
Emily looked down.
"I thought it would stop."
Her voice cracked.
"I thought if I stayed calm, if I didn't fight back, if I didn't make them angry..."
She stopped.
I reached for her hand.
"Emily."
She looked at me.
"You taught me to be strong."
A tear fell.
"But they made me feel like being strong didn't matter."
I hated that sentence.
Not because it was wrong.
Because I knew exactly how powerful people worked.
They didn't always destroy someone physically.
Sometimes they convinced them they were already defeated.
"What did Dr. Reeves do?"
Emily swallowed.
"He covered for them."
The room seemed smaller.
"He wrote reports saying I had anxiety."
She shook her head.
"He said my injuries came from accidents."
My jaw tightened.
"How many times?"
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
I already knew.
I looked at the evidence bag containing the memory card.
The Prescott family had built a wall around themselves.
Money.
Connections.
Doctors.
Officials.
People who turned crimes into paperwork.
But every wall had a weakness.
And Emily had found theirs.
The security officer cleared his throat.
"Colonel Hart?"
I looked at him.
"Do not release any records."
He nodded.
"Understood."
"And no one enters this room without my approval."
His eyes widened slightly.
"Yes, ma'am."
After he left, I looked at Emily.
"Where is Ethan right now?"
She hesitated.
"I don't know."
That bothered me.
Because Ethan Prescott wasn't the kind of man who walked away from a problem.
He solved problems.
Usually by making them disappear.
My phone vibrated again.
Another unknown number.
I answered.
"Colonel Hart."
This time, nobody spoke.
Only breathing.
"Who is this?"
Silence.
Then a woman's voice.
"Victoria."
I froze.
Not because I recognized the voice.
Because I recognized the fear in it.
"Who are you?"
The woman whispered:
"I worked for the Prescotts."
I stood.
"What is your name?"
"My name doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
A pause.
Then:
"Your daughter found something she was never supposed to see."
I looked at the memory card.
"What was recorded?"
The woman became nervous.
"I can't say over the phone."
"Then tell me where to meet you."
"No."
Her voice became urgent.
"You don't understand."
"What don't I understand?"
"The Prescotts don't just control people."
I waited.
"They replace them."
A chill moved through me.
"What does that mean?"
The call suddenly became distorted.
Before she disconnected, I heard one final sentence.
"Look at the video before they erase the original."
The line went dead.
Emily stared at me.
"Who was that?"
"I don't know."
"But she knows something."
Emily looked at the memory card.
"Mom..."
I turned.
"Yes?"
Her voice dropped.
"There is another thing."
I waited.
"When I found the card..."
She looked toward the hallway.
"Someone was already inside the office."
My expression changed.
"You weren't alone?"
She shook her head.
"I thought it was Ethan."
"Was it?"
"No."
Her eyes filled with fear.
"It was someone else."
I stood slowly.
"Who?"
Emily looked at the door.
"I never saw his face."
My hand moved instinctively toward my phone.
"What did he do?"
"He was looking through files."
"What files?"
She hesitated.
"Files about people."
I frowned.
"What people?"
Emily looked at me.
"People who disappeared."
The words hung in the air.
For a moment, I didn't speak.
Because my military instincts were telling me something was wrong.
Not just wrong.
Bigger.
This wasn't only about domestic abuse.
This wasn't only about a wealthy family protecting their reputation.
Something else was hidden underneath.
Something organized.
Something deliberate.
I picked up the evidence bag.
"I need to see what's on this card."
Emily grabbed my hand.
"Mom, the woman said not to open it on the hospital network."
"I heard her."
"What if they are watching?"
I looked around the room.
The cameras.
The monitors.
The devices.
Everything connected.
Everything vulnerable.
Emily was right.
Whoever these people were, they had resources.
They had reach.
But they made one mistake.
They hurt my daughter.
And they underestimated what a mother would do after that.
"I'll find somewhere secure."
I placed the memory card back into the evidence bag.
Then the lights flickered again.
This time, they didn't come back immediately.
The room went dark.
Emily gasped.
Someone moved outside the door.
I stepped in front of her.
"Stay behind me."
The hallway lights turned on.
A shadow appeared beneath the door.
Then came a knock.
Three slow knocks.
Nobody spoke.
I reached for the door handle.
The moment my hand touched it, my phone received a new message.
I looked down.
One sentence.
May you like
From an unknown sender.
"Don't open the door. He's the person who recorded the video."
