Chapter 6: The Survivor in Room 309
For one long second, nobody moved.
Derek's gun was pointed directly at my chest.
His uniform looked immaculate. His badge was polished. His expression was calm.
Almost bored.
That frightened me more than if he had been shouting.
“Put the photograph down,” he said.
I kept my hands visible.
“Derek, this is a secured crime scene.””
“I'm aware.””
“Then explain why you're here.””
He glanced at Morrison.
“Deputy Chief, you should take your detective and leave.””
Morrison stepped forward.
“Lower your weapon.””
Derek didn't move.
“I'm not asking twice.””
I watched his trigger finger.
It was resting too close.
“Derek,” I said carefully, “why are you so interested in that photograph?””
He gave me a cold smile.
“Because you have no idea what you're looking at.””
“Then explain it.””
“It's an old photograph.””
“Of my mother, Captain Harris, and someone whose face has been deliberately removed.””
His eyes flickered.
That was enough.
I knew he recognized the picture.
Morrison slowly reached for his radio.
Derek raised his weapon.
“Don't.””
The room froze.
Then another voice came from the hallway.
“Derek, put the gun down.””
Captain Harris stood in the doorway.
His gray hair was disheveled, and his face looked exhausted.
Derek turned sharply.
“Captain, you shouldn't be here.””
Harris stepped inside.
“I could say the same about you.””
“I'm handling an unauthorized evidence recovery.””
“By pointing a gun at a detective?””
Derek's jaw tightened.
“You know what happens if she finds the original files.””
Harris looked at him.
“I know exactly what happens.””
I glanced between them.
“You're both going to explain yourselves.””
Derek laughed.
“You still think this is about a missing-person case?””
He looked at me.
“Your brother was never supposed to become part of this.””
“What does that mean?””
“He was supposed to stay out of it.””
Harris stepped closer.
“Enough, Derek.””
“No.”” Derek's voice rose.
“You told me she would never find the second report. You told me the hospital records were destroyed.””
I stared at Harris.
“You told him?””
Harris closed his eyes briefly.
“Derek, stop talking.””
But Derek was already unraveling.
“You think I wanted any of this? I was following orders!””
“Whose orders?”” I asked.
He looked at me.
Then he pointed the gun slightly toward Harris.
“Ask him.””
Morrison took advantage of the distraction.
“Now!””
Two Internal Affairs investigators rushed through the side entrance.
One grabbed Derek's gun arm while the other tackled him to the floor.
The weapon slid across the wooden boards.
Derek fought violently.
“Get off me!””
His shoulder struck the wall.
Morrison kicked the gun away.
Within seconds, Derek was handcuffed.
I stood over him.
“Who gave you the orders?””
He spat blood onto the floor.
“You're too late.””
“For what?””
He smiled.
“Your brother already knows.””
I crouched.
“Knows what?””
Derek looked directly into my eyes.
“That the man he's been protecting is the reason your mother died.””
My heart pounded.
“Who?””
Derek closed his mouth.
An investigator pulled him upright and led him away.
Captain Harris remained near the doorway.
I turned toward him.
“Start talking.””
He looked at the photograph in my hand.
Then he sat down heavily on a nearby chair.
“I met your mother in 2018,” he began.
“She came to me with evidence of financial misconduct inside the department.””
“Why you?””
“Because I was one of the few officers she trusted.””
“Were you?””
He lowered his head.
“I wanted to believe I was.””
I waited.
“She told me that several officers were using missing-person cases to hide illegal payments. Daniel Brooks had discovered the same thing. Malik was helping him.””
“What happened on November 18?””
Harris looked toward the open doorway.
“Your mother arranged a meeting with someone who promised to give her the original records. She believed she could expose everything.””
“Who?””
“I never saw his face.””
“You're lying.””
He shook his head.
“I swear to you, Nia. I arrived after the accident. Derek was already there. Your mother was dead, and the other person had been taken to the hospital.””
I gripped the photograph.
“Why did you conceal the autopsy?””
“Because I was told the survivor was dangerous.””
“Who told you?””
Harris looked up.
“Your brother.””
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.””
“Malik contacted me two days after the funeral. He said the person who survived the accident had threatened your family.””
“Who was the survivor?””
Harris hesitated.
Then he said, “I don't know.””
I stepped back.
“That's convenient.””
“I never saw the hospital records. Derek handled the transfer.””
“Why did you sign the second autopsy?””
“Because your mother had asked me to protect the evidence. I thought I was helping her.””
“You buried it.””
“I was trying to keep it from the people who wanted it destroyed.””
I stared at him.
“You let my family believe her death was an accident.””
Harris's eyes filled.
“I know.””
For a moment, the anger inside me had nowhere to go.
Then my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
“Carter.””
A weak voice came through.
“Nia?””
My knees nearly gave out.
“Malik?””
“Don't say my name.””
I covered my mouth.
“Where are you?””
“Listen to me. You have to get out of that house.””
“Malik, are you hurt?””
“I'm okay.””
“I'm coming to get you.””
“No. You can't.””
I looked at Morrison.
“Tell me where you are.””
Malik took a shaky breath.
“Do you remember the hospital?””
“County General?””
“Room 309.””
I glanced at the ambulance record.
“Is that where the survivor was taken?””
Silence.
Then Malik whispered, “Yes.””
My heart hammered.
“Were you the survivor?””
“No.””
I felt a strange mixture of relief and confusion.
“Then who was?””
Malik's voice broke.
“Nia, I need you to understand something. The person who survived that night wasn't a stranger.””
“Who was it?””
A door slammed somewhere on his end.
He gasped.
“Don't trust Harris.””
I looked toward the captain.
He was standing perfectly still.
“Malik, listen to me. I'm at Reed's house. Derek has been arrested.””
“What?””
“He was armed. We found the photograph.””
Malik began breathing faster.
“You found it?””
“Yes.””
“Then they know.””
“Who knows?””
“The people who have been protecting the survivor.””
I moved toward the window.
“Malik, tell me who it is.””
His next words were barely audible.
“It's someone who has been in your life every single day.””
I closed my eyes.
“Who?””
He didn't answer.
Instead, I heard a second voice in the background.
A woman.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Malik, give me the phone.””
My blood turned cold.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it at family dinners.
At birthdays.
At my mother's funeral.
It belonged to the woman who had held my hand when we buried our mother.
The woman who had helped me search for Malik.
The woman who had called me every night since he disappeared.
My aunt.
Patricia Carter.
“Malik,” I whispered.
“Why is Aunt Patricia with you?””
There was a long silence.
Then he said something that shattered everything I thought I knew.
“Because she's the one who was in the car with Mom.””
The call ended.
I stood motionless.
Morrison approached.
“What happened?””
I looked at him.
“My aunt was in the car the night my mother died.””
His expression changed.
“Patricia Carter?””
I nodded.
He reached for his phone.
“Get a team to her house.””
But before he could make the call, another message appeared on my screen.
It was from Patricia.
Sweetheart, I know you've been asking questions.
A second message followed.
Your mother wanted me to tell you the truth when you were old enough.
Then a photograph appeared.
It showed Patricia sitting beside Malik in a hospital room.
The date in the corner was six days earlier.
She was holding his hand.
And beneath the photograph was one final message.
Come alone, Nia.
If you want to know which one of us killed your mother, you need to hear the recording she left behind.
I looked at the photograph again.
Then I noticed something on the bedside table.
A hospital wristband.
The name printed on it wasn't Malik Carter.
It was Patricia Carter.
May you like
And the admission date was November 18, 2018.
The night my mother died.
