Chapter 10 - The Detective's Impossible Discovery
The camera recovered from the hospital ventilation shaft looked ordinary at first glance.
It was no larger than a deck of cards.
Black.
Dust-covered.
Professionally concealed.
But when the forensic technicians removed the memory card, Detective Laura Bennett immediately noticed something strange.
"It isn't transmitting wirelessly," one technician said.
"It stores everything locally."
Bennett nodded.
"Whoever installed it planned to return for it."
The footage was copied onto a secure computer.
Michael stood beside the detectives, refusing to leave despite having been awake for almost thirty-six hours.
The recording began three days earlier.
Emily being admitted.
Doctors entering and leaving.
Nurses checking her condition.
Everything appeared routine.
Then, exactly forty-seven seconds before the hospital cameras failed, someone entered the room.
Not through the hallway.
Not through the window.
The person emerged from the ceiling.
Michael stared in disbelief.
"There was someone inside the ventilation system?"
The technician enlarged the image.
The intruder wore dark clothing, gloves, and a breathing mask.
Every movement was precise.
Professional.
Emily opened her eyes before the person even touched the floor.
She didn't scream.
Instead, she whispered something.
The technician enhanced the audio.
"...I knew you'd find me."
Michael looked at Bennett.
"They knew each other."
The masked figure nodded once.
Then handed Emily a small envelope.
She read its contents.
Her face turned completely pale.
Seconds later, she quietly removed her IV tube herself.
There was no struggle.
No kidnapping.
She left voluntarily.
Michael could barely process what he was seeing.
"She walked away."
Bennett wasn't looking at Emily anymore.
She had frozen the video.
The masked person's left wrist was visible for only a fraction of a second.
"There."
She zoomed in.
A tattoo.
Half of a compass.
Half of a raven.
Michael's expression changed.
"I've seen that before."
"Where?"
"In our family photo albums."
"What?"
"My father had that exact tattoo."
The room fell silent.
May you like
"But my father died fifteen years ago."
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