"And you."
Marissa nodded.
Before they left, Ethan looked down at the small key Roger had been holding.
Number seventeen.
He slipped it into his pocket.
Three hours later, Roger was in surgery.
The doctors wouldn't promise anything.
Ethan sat in the hospital corridor.
Marissa sat beside him.
She had not spoken for almost twenty minutes.
Finally, she said:
"Do you think he'll survive?"
"I don't know."
"Do you hate him?"
Ethan looked at her.
"No."
"Even after what he did to me?"
"People are more complicated than the worst thing they've done."
Marissa looked at him.
"That's a dangerous belief."
"It is."
A doctor appeared.
"Family of Roger Vance?"
Neither moved.
"We're not family," Ethan said.
The doctor hesitated.
"Then I'm afraid I can't discuss his condition."
He walked away.
Marissa looked at Ethan.
"His family."
"We'll find them."
They found Roger's emergency contact in less than an hour.
His younger sister lived in Indiana.
She arrived shortly before dawn.
She was exhausted and angry.
She had not spoken to Roger in five years.
When Ethan explained what happened, she began crying.
"Why would anyone want to kill him?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
Roger knew about Northstar.
He knew about Richard.
And now he had mentioned the hospital.
The question was no longer whether there was a secret.
The question was where the secret was hidden.
At six in the morning, Ethan and Marissa returned to Bellweather.
The police had sealed the building.
But Ethan had something the police didn't know about.
The key.
Number seventeen.
He looked at the building.
"What if it isn't a room?"
"What?"
"The key."
Marissa looked confused.
"Roger said hospital."
"So?"
"So maybe number seventeen isn't a room."
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"Maybe it's a locker."
They went to the hospital where Roger was being treated.
The old wing had been closed for years.
It was scheduled for demolition.
A security guard stopped them.
"This section is restricted."
Ethan showed his identification.
The guard frowned.
"You can't go in there."
Ethan looked at him.
"Who owns the building?"
"The hospital."
"Who owns the hospital?"
The guard didn't answer.
Ethan smiled.
"Exactly."
Money opened doors.
But this time, Marissa opened one first.
She noticed a row of old metal lockers near the basement entrance.
Each had a number.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
She looked at Ethan.
"That seems too easy."
"It does."
He inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a box.
A black metal box.
Marissa's heart began racing.
Ethan opened it.
Inside were medical records.
Photographs.
Bank receipts.
And a cassette tape.
On top was a handwritten message.
For Richard. If I disappear, give this to Edward.
Marissa recognized the handwriting.
"That's Victor."
Ethan looked at her.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
He picked up the cassette.
There was an old portable player beside the box.
The batteries still worked.
Ethan pressed play.
Static.
Then a man's voice.
Victor Hale.
"Richard, if you're hearing this, then you already know what they are planning."
Marissa covered her mouth.
"The money was never stolen. It was transferred. Every transfer was approved by Edward."
Ethan froze.
"But Edward didn't control Northstar."
Static.
"Someone else did."
A woman's voice suddenly appeared.
Anna.
"If you keep this recording, they will kill you."
Victor answered:
"I know."
Anna whispered:
"Then why stay?"
Victor's voice cracked.
"Because your father believes he can fix it."
The recording ended.
Silence filled the room.
Marissa looked at Ethan.
"Your father knew."
"Yes."
"But who controlled Northstar?"
Ethan stared at the tape.
"We still don't know."
Then he noticed something inside the box.
A small hospital identification card.
The photograph showed a young woman.
Name:
ANNA CALLOWAY.
Date of admission:
1999.
Status:
TRANSFERRED.
Ethan stopped breathing.
"Anna was here."
Marissa took the card.
"Then she survived."
Ethan looked at the transfer destination.
There was no hospital name.
Only a code.
17-B.
ANNA
They spent the next forty-eight hours searching for 17-B.
It didn't exist in the hospital records.
It didn't exist in city records.
It didn't exist anywhere.
Nolan finally found something.
"Come here."
Ethan walked into the office.
Nolan pointed at his screen.
"17-B wasn't a hospital."
"What was it?"
"An evacuation designation."
Ethan frowned.
"Explain."
"During the 1990s, several private institutions used coded transfers for witnesses and protected patients."
"Protected by whom?"
"Federal contractors."
Ethan stared at him.
"Anna was a witness."
"Apparently."
Marissa stepped closer.
"Against whom?"
Nolan looked at the documents.
"Northstar."
That evening, Elaine finally told Marissa the truth.
They sat in the kitchen.
No television.
No music.
Only the ticking of the clock.
"Your father didn't steal twelve million dollars," Elaine said.
Marissa stared at her.
"I know."
"He was trying to stop it."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because people were watching us."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You knew about Anna."
Elaine's face changed.
"Who told you?"
"I saw her photograph."
Elaine closed her eyes.
"She came to our house once."
"When?"
"Before your father disappeared."
"What did she want?"
"Protection."
Marissa's voice softened.
"Did Dad help her?"
"Yes."
"Did he know she was alive?"
"For a while."
"Where did she go?"
Elaine shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You do."
"No."
"Mom."
Elaine looked at her daughter.
"I promised your father."
Marissa's eyes filled.
"And what did that promise cost us?"
Elaine began crying.
"Everything."
Across town, Ethan stood in his father's study.