Chapter 6 - The Death Certificate That Never Existed
I stared at the message on my phone.
"Ask Dr. Reeves why he signed Emily's death certificate."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Not me.
Not Emily.
Not Dr. Samuel Reeves.
The hallway outside the hospital room suddenly felt colder.
Because there was one problem.
Emily was standing right beside me.
Alive.
Breathing.
Holding my hand.
But the message said someone had a death certificate with her name on it.
I looked at Dr. Reeves.
His face had lost all color.
"Explain."
My voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet people feared more than shouting.
Dr. Reeves looked down.
"I can explain."
"Then do it."
He glanced around the hallway.
"Not here."
I stepped closer.
"You walked into my daughter's hospital room without permission. You requested her medical records. You knew about the memory card."
My eyes narrowed.
"And now someone claims you signed her death certificate."
Emily looked at him.
"Did you?"
Dr. Reeves closed his eyes.
For a moment, he looked exhausted.
Not guilty.
Not innocent.
Just tired.
"I signed a document."
My expression hardened.
"What document?"
"A false report."
Emily stepped back.
Her face changed.
"About me?"
Dr. Reeves nodded.
"I'm sorry."
The apology meant nothing.
Not yet.
I had heard apologies from people who caused damage.
From people who wanted forgiveness without consequences.
"Start from the beginning."
Dr. Reeves looked at the floor.
"After Emily married Ethan, Margaret contacted me."
"Why?"
"She said Emily was having emotional problems."
Emily shook her head.
"I wasn't."
"I know."
Dr. Reeves looked at her.
"I know now."
That sentence bothered me.
Not because of what he said.
Because of when he said it.
"Keep going."
He swallowed.
"Margaret wanted medical records that would make Emily appear unstable."
My hands tightened.
"Why?"
"So if she ever accused Ethan of anything, nobody would believe her."
Emily covered her mouth.
I looked at the doctor.
"You helped them."
His eyes lowered.
"Yes."
The answer was immediate.
No excuses.
No denial.
Just the truth.
"I wrote reports that were not accurate."
Emily looked away.
I could see the pain on her face.
Not surprise.
She already knew.
But hearing someone admit it made the wound deeper.
"How far did it go?" I asked.
Dr. Reeves hesitated.
"Farther than you think."
I waited.
"Six months ago, Ethan and Margaret told me Emily had suffered an accident."
Emily froze.
"Six months ago?"
Dr. Reeves nodded.
"They wanted me to declare that she was in a psychological crisis."
I stared at him.
"But she wasn't dead."
"No."
His voice became quieter.
"She was alive."
The hallway seemed to stop.
"Then why did someone send me a message about a death certificate?"
Dr. Reeves looked at me.
"Because the Prescott family created one."
Emily grabbed my arm.
"What?"
Dr. Reeves continued.
"They created paperwork showing Emily had disappeared."
My jaw tightened.
"Why?"
"Because they needed control."
He looked at Emily.
"They wanted everyone to believe she was gone."
Emily shook her head.
"But I was living in the guesthouse."
"Exactly."
I understood.
They weren't trying to hide a crime.
They were creating a story.
A story where Emily no longer existed.
No identity.
No credibility.
No one searching for her.
A person could be destroyed without ever being physically harmed.
All it took was paperwork.
Records.
People willing to lie.
My phone vibrated.
Another message.
This time from my military contact.
"Colonel Hart, we accessed hospital cameras."
I opened it.
A video file appeared.
I pressed play.
The footage showed the hallway outside Emily's room.
Twenty minutes earlier.
A man walked past the camera.
Wearing hospital scrubs.
Carrying a medical folder.
He stopped outside our room.
Looked directly at the camera.
Then covered it.
I paused the video.
The face was visible for only a second.
But it was enough.
I recognized him.
Emily saw my expression.
"Who is that?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Because I was trying to understand something impossible.
The man in the video was someone I had met before.
Someone who should not have been anywhere near Mercy General.
Someone who had no connection to Emily.
At least, that was what I believed.
Dr. Reeves looked at the screen.
Then stepped back.
"No."
I turned.
"You know him."
He shook his head.
"No."
But his voice betrayed him.
"You recognize him."
Another silence.
Finally, he whispered:
"He was supposed to be gone."
I looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
Dr. Reeves stared at the screen.
"He was the first person who tried to expose the Prescotts."
"Name."
He didn't answer.
"Name."
His hands started shaking.
"Daniel Cross."
The name meant nothing to me.
But Dr. Reeves looked terrified.
"Who is Daniel Cross?"
Dr. Reeves looked at Emily.
Then at me.
"The man who recorded everything inside the Prescott house."
My eyes moved toward the memory card.
"Then why is he helping them?"
Dr. Reeves shook his head.
"He isn't."
"Then why was he outside my daughter's room?"
No answer.
I stepped closer.
"Doctor."
He looked at me.
"What aren't you telling me?"
His expression changed.
Like he had reached the point where keeping the secret was more dangerous than revealing it.
"Daniel Cross wasn't working against Emily."
"Then who was he working for?"
Dr. Reeves looked at the hospital exit.
"Your daughter."
Emily stared.
"What?"
Dr. Reeves took a breath.
"Emily was never their victim."
The words confused all of us.
"What are you saying?"
He reached into his folder.
Pulled out another photograph.
And handed it to Emily.
She looked down.
Then froze.
It was a picture of her.
Inside the Prescott guesthouse.
Holding a camera.
Standing beside the hidden room.
Emily's face went pale.
"I don't remember this."
Dr. Reeves whispered:
"That's because they made sure you wouldn't."
My stomach tightened.
"What did they do to her?"
Before he could answer, every light in the hallway suddenly went out.
The emergency lights flashed red.
A hospital alarm started ringing.
People began shouting in the distance.
I immediately moved Emily behind me.
Dr. Reeves looked toward the stairwell.
"No."
I followed his gaze.
"What?"
His voice dropped.
"They found us."
A figure appeared at the end of the hallway.
Walking slowly toward us.
Not running.
Not hiding.
Confident.
The person stopped beneath the emergency light.
Then removed the surgical mask.
Emily gasped.
Because she knew the face.
May you like
And she whispered a name I never expected to hear.
"Daniel..."
