I was dragged down the private hospital corridor by my stepmother after my father's surgery, my shoulder scraping against the floor as she ordered the nurses not to interfere. She leaned over me and whispered, “Your father will wake up believing you abandoned him—and by the time he does, this entire hospital will belong to me.”

“You knew my mother,” I said, stepping closer while Sarah remained near the doorway watching the perimeter.

“I tried to save your mother,” Julian said, his eyes darkening with old agony. “Four years ago, I noticed abnormal levels of synthetic potassium in her bloodwork right after her routine surgery. I raised the flag with the chief administrator. Within twelve hours, your mother’s body was cremated without an autopsy, and I was escorted out of the building by Victoria’s private security.”

He walked toward a large wooden table covered in monitors, printouts, and bank ledgers.

“Victoria Carter isn't just a greedy stepmother, Emma,” Julian continued, tapping the screen. “She is part of a high-end syndicate. They locate wealthy, elderly individuals with sole heirs, infiltrate their estates through marriage or corporate restructuring, and systematically eliminate them through untraceable medical overdoses.”

“How did she get control of my father’s hospital so fast?” I asked.

“Because three of the five executive board members are on her payroll,” Julian explained, turning a monitor toward me. It showed live security camera feeds from inside St. Jude’s Hospital—including the hallway outside ICU Suite 9. “She promised them shares in a multi-million-dollar offshore pharmaceutical network once she takes the hospital private.”

I stared at the screen showing my father’s room. Two heavy guards stood outside his door. Inside, a drip line was connected to his IV.

“Look at the clock,” Julian pointed to the display. 4:45 AM. “At six o’clock, Dr. Harrison—Victoria’s personal physician—will administer a compound called 'Neuro-Thrust'. It induces permanent ischemic brain damage while mimicking a post-surgical stroke. It leaves zero chemical residue in an autopsy.”

A cold knot of terror tightened around my chest. “We have to stop them now.”

“We can’t just walk in there with guns blazing, Emma,” Julian said, pulling out a flash drive from his computer. “Victoria controls the hospital security staff. The moment you step into that lobby, they will detain you under a psychiatric hold.”

“Then how do we get to my father?”

Julian looked at Sarah, then back at me, a sharp smile breaking through his tired face. “We don't go through the lobby. We use the service tunnels beneath the old wing. But I need you to do something first.”

He handed me the flash drive.

“What’s this?”

“That drive contains every encrypted transaction between Victoria, Dr. Harrison, and the offshore accounts,” Julian said. “To decrypt it, we need Victoria’s master biometric key—the thumbprint scanner on the phone she keeps in her coat.”