Chapter 3 - Leonard Voss Told Me My Sister Was Alive—Then Asked What I Would Trade to Get Her BackLeonard Voss looked exactly like he did on television.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
Gentle smile.
Nothing about him suggested a man who had just walked into an illegal archive beneath a hospital.
Marin hated him instantly.
“You're alive,” Raphael said.
Voss chuckled.
“I've always been alive.”
“You tried to kill my father.”
“I didn't.”
“You poisoned my grandmother.”
“No.”
“You took Claire.”
Voss looked at Marin.
“Claire came to me.”
“That is a lie.”
“She wanted answers.”
“You told everyone she died.”
Voss sighed.
“Sometimes the dead are safer than the living.”
Marin stepped forward.
“Where is she?”
Voss's smile disappeared.
“She is alive.”
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
He looked at Raphael.
“You brought her here.”
Raphael stared.
“Brought who?”
“Your grandmother.”
Voss's voice became quieter.
“She knows where the original ledger is.”
Marin looked at Filamina's photograph.
“What ledger?”
“The ledger that could destroy twenty years of history.”
Raphael's jaw tightened.
“My family?”
“Several families.”
“Mine.”
“Yours.”
“Claire.”
“Your sister too.”
Marin's hands curled.
“What does she have to do with it?”
Voss looked at her.
“She was the last person your father trusted.”
“My father?”
“Daniel Sloan.”
Marin stopped.
Voss smiled faintly.
“You never knew your father was one of the investigators.”
Her throat tightened.
“My father was a truck driver.”
“That was the cover.”
Marin stared.
Her mother had always said he traveled for work.
He disappeared before Marin turned thirteen.
She had assumed abandonment.
Voss continued.
“Daniel discovered a network transferring children and patient identities through private hospitals.”
Marin felt sick.
“What children?”
“Children whose parents owed money.”
“Why?”
“Leverage.”
Raphael's expression went cold.
“My family never did that.”
“Your family was one branch.”
Voss looked at him.
“Not the head.”
“Who was?”
Voss smiled.
“You're not ready.”
Marin stepped closer.
“I am.”
He looked at her.
“You think you are.”
Then he said:
“Your sister Claire is the current holder of the evidence.”
Marin froze.
“Where is she?”
“Alive.”
“Where?”
“Kestrel.”
“Kestrel Lake.”
“Yes.”
Marin's breathing stopped.
The lake.
The old woman.
Everything connected.
“Why did Filamina go there?”
“To retrieve her.”
“Then why was she in the water?”
“She wasn't supposed to reach the facility.”
“Who stopped her?”
Voss didn't answer.
Raphael raised his gun.
“Who?”
Voss smiled.
“Ask your uncle.”
Raphael's face changed.
“Malcolm.”
Voss nodded.
“He has been working with me for fourteen years.”
Raphael stared.
His uncle.
Again.
The man who had raised him.
The man who attended every family funeral.
The man who called him Tomaso.
It couldn't be.
Voss continued.
“Malcolm believed your father would eventually give him control.”
“And?”
“Patrick chose you.”
Raphael stepped closer.
“So Malcolm tried to take it.”
“Not tried.”
Voss smiled.
“He succeeded.”
“What?”
“Your uncle controls half the companies in your name.”
Raphael's expression went blank.
Marin watched him.
This wasn't the controlled man she had met at the lake.
This was a son discovering that his family had been lying to him.
Then Voss looked at her.
“And now you.”
“What about me?”
“He wants you dead.”
“Why?”
“Because you are the only person who can identify Claire.”
Marin stared.
“What?”
“Your sister left a biometric signature in the system.”
She looked confused.
Voss explained.
“Your father's evidence archive requires both sisters.”
“Both?”
“Claire and Marin.”
“But I never saw it.”
“You don't remember.”
The room went silent.
Voss smiled.
“Your mother had the memory procedure done when you were sixteen.”
Marin's face went cold.
“She erased something?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“The location of the vault.”
She looked at Raphael.
He didn't know what to say.
Voss turned.
“I'll make you a deal.”
Marin stared.
“What?”
“I'll take you to Claire.”
“Why?”
“Because she won't come out for anyone else.”
“What do you want?”
“Your memory.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You think I can give you that?”
“I think you already have it.”
He walked toward the door.
“Find it.”
Then he left.
The next morning, Marin woke with a headache.
Raphael was standing outside her room.
“You were unconscious for two hours.”
“What happened?”
“Sedative.”
She stared.
“Who gave it to me?”
“We don't know.”
She sat up.
Her memory was blurred.
Then she remembered the archive.
Voss.
Claire.
The vault.
Suddenly something flashed.
A red door.
Water.
A child crying.
A woman saying:
Don't look at the clock.
Marin closed her eyes.
“I remember something.”
Raphael sat.
“What?”
“A red door.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Who was there?”
“Claire.”
“Anyone else?”
A man.
Older.
A wedding ring.
“Who?”
She swallowed.
“My father.”
Raphael stared.
“Your father was alive?”
“I don't know.”
Then she remembered one more thing.
A number.
27.
She opened her eyes.
“Twenty-seven.”
Raphael stood.
“What?”
“Room twenty-seven.”
He looked at his phone.
“St. Vincent's has no Room 27 in the basement.”
“There is.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I saw it.”
“In your memory.”
“Yes.”
They returned to the hospital.
Room 27 didn't exist.
But the old building plans showed a hidden corridor.
Behind a false wall.
Raphael broke it open.
Inside was a small room.
A chair.
A medical machine.
A mirror.
A camera.
And a recording.
Marin pressed play.
Her mother's voice.
“Marin, if you ever hear this, they will tell you that Claire is dead.”
Marin started crying.
“That's a lie.”
The recording continued.
“Your father was taken.”
“My God.”
“You and Claire were separated.”
“Why?”
“To keep the vault hidden.”
Marin looked at Raphael.
The recording continued.
“Filamina helped me.”
“Why?”
“Because she trusted your father.”
Marin's hands shook.
“And if you found the vault, it means she succeeded.”
Then the recording ended.
A second file opened automatically.
Claire appeared.
Older.
Thin.
Alive.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Marin.”
Marin stopped breathing.
“If you're seeing this, I'm sorry.”
Claire's eyes filled with tears.
“I didn't die.”
Marin touched the screen.
“Claire.”
Her sister continued.
“I had to disappear because Malcolm was going to kill you.”
Then:
“Don't trust Raphael.”
Marin froze.
Raphael looked at her.
“What?”
Claire's final sentence appeared.
“He doesn't know what his uncle has done.”
The screen went black.
Marin stared.
“What does that mean?”
Raphael had no answer.
But someone outside the room did.
A voice.
May you like
His uncle's.
“Because I never told him.”
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