CHAPTER 10 — The Woman in White
The voice echoed through every corridor.
"Welcome home, Daniel."
"I've been waiting for my son."
No one spoke.
Not Daniel.
Not Victoria.
Not even the masked gunmen.
For the first time, fear crossed the face of their leader.
"That's impossible..." he whispered.
The steel doors surrounding the maternity ward unlocked one by one.
A soft click.
Then silence.
The speakers came alive again.
"Room 207."
The calm female voice never rose above a whisper.
"Come alone."
Daniel looked at Victoria.
She was losing blood, but her eyes remained focused.
"Go," she said.
"If she wanted you dead... you never would have reached this hospital."
Mr. Graves stepped forward.
"I'll stay with Victoria."
Daniel hesitated for only a second before walking into the empty hallway.
The hospital seemed frozen in time.
Every room still held rusted cribs, faded family photographs, and peeling wallpaper decorated with cartoon clouds.
At the end of the corridor...
Room 207.
The door was already open.
Inside, sunlight streamed through a broken window.
An elderly woman sat in a wheelchair facing the garden.
She wore a simple white sweater.
Silver hair rested neatly on her shoulders.
She never turned around.
"I knew you'd come."
Daniel's voice was cautious.
"Who are you?"
The woman smiled faintly.
"I've asked myself that same question for twenty-eight years."
She slowly rolled the wheelchair toward him.
Daniel's breath caught.
He had never seen her before.
Yet something about her face felt hauntingly familiar.
Not because she resembled him.
Because she resembled...
His father.
She extended a trembling hand.
"My name is Margaret Hale."
Daniel searched his memory.
The name meant nothing.
"It should," she replied quietly.
"Your father made sure you would forget it."
She pointed to an old wooden cabinet beside the bed.
"Open the top drawer."
Inside lay a leather-bound journal.
The initials E.A. were embossed in gold.
Edward Ashford.
His father's diary.
Daniel carefully opened the first page.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
If Daniel is reading this, it means I failed.
He turned the page.
A photograph slipped onto the floor.
It showed Edward standing beside Margaret in front of St. Agnes Hospital.
The date was written on the back.
May 14 — Twenty-Eight Years Ago.
Below it, in Edward's handwriting:
"The only person I ever trusted with my son's life."
Daniel looked up.
"My father trusted you?"
Margaret nodded.
"More than he trusted himself."
She reached into her sweater pocket and removed an old silver locket.
When she opened it...
Daniel's heart nearly stopped.
Inside was a tiny photograph of him as a baby.
On the opposite side...
A newborn girl's picture.
"They grew up apart," Margaret whispered.
"Exactly as Edward planned."
Daniel frowned.
"Who is she?"
Margaret closed the locket.
"The question isn't who she is."
She looked directly into his eyes.
"It's whether she's still alive."
Before Daniel could answer—
Three rapid gunshots echoed somewhere else in the hospital.
Daniel instinctively reached for the door.
Margaret grabbed his wrist with surprising strength.
"Don't."
"They're trying to pull you away."
Daniel stared at her.
"Victoria and Mr. Graves are out there!"
Margaret slowly shook her head.
"Edward taught them how to survive."
She lowered her voice.
"But he never taught you..."
"...because he hoped you'd never need to know."
She pressed a small brass key into Daniel's palm.
Unlike every other key he had found...
This one carried a tiny engraved number.
13
"What does this open?" Daniel asked.
Margaret smiled sadly.
"Not a door."
She pointed beneath the hospital.
"It opens a vault."
Daniel's pulse quickened.
"What's inside?"
Margaret took a slow breath.
"The truth Edward refused to tell anyone."
She paused.
"And the one document Richard Calloway has spent thirty years trying to destroy."
At that exact moment—
A violent explosion rocked the hospital.
The walls trembled.
Glass shattered across the hallway.
Smoke poured beneath the door.
Daniel rushed to the window.
Outside, flames engulfed his SUV.
Several black vehicles surrounded the hospital.
More armed men were arriving.
Then Daniel noticed something that made his blood run cold.
Richard Calloway stepped out of the lead vehicle.
He wasn't carrying a weapon.
Only a cane.
And in his other hand...
He held Eleanor Ashford.
Daniel's mother.
She was bound, frightened, but alive.
Richard looked up toward Room 207.
He smiled.
Then he placed a phone against Eleanor's ear.
Seconds later...
Daniel's own phone rang.
He answered.
Richard spoke only one sentence.
"You have one hour."
"Bring me Vault Thirteen..."
May you like
"...or your mother dies."
To Be Continued...
