Chapter 8 - Breathing Room
I managed to slip past the security checkpoint by utilizing the subterranean service tunnels beneath the carriage house, letting myself into the master suite through the discreet side panel the patient had revealed during the storm. When I stepped back into the dimly lit, wood-paneled bedroom, the contrast between the cold corporate hostility outside and the quiet sanctuary within was stark. The patient was sitting upright against a mound of feather pillows, breathing easily through the independent emergency tank we had activated the night before. His color was better, the gray pallor of exhaustion receding from his cheeks, though his eyes remained tight with lingering tension.
"You took too long," he said, though the sharp edge in his voice was softened by undeniable relief as he watched me lock the heavy bedroom door from the inside. "I heard shouting down in the courtyard. Did they stop you?"
"They tried," I said, pulling the damp coat from my shoulders and walking straight to the bedside. I reached into my pocket and laid the folded laboratory verification report across his blanket. "But they didn't get what was inside. Read it."
He unfolded the stiff paper with trembling fingers, his dark eyes scanning the technical breakdown of the polymer insert, the certified flow-rate analysis, and the official seal of the county medical validator. As the implications of the document sank in, his jaw tightened, the goatee and mustache twitching with a suppressed fury that ran far deeper than fear.
"They used the same supplier for both of us," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he looked up at me. "My brother, and now me. They thought they could sweep it all under the rug as a tragic coincidence."
May you like
"It's no coincidence," I said gently, leaning over the edge of the mattress to check the digital readouts on the independent oxygen tank. "Someone inside the foundation is systematically clearing the executive board through medical sabotage. And your associate in the black suit is right at the center of it."
He reached out, his warm, dry hand grasping my wrist, stopping my movements entirely. "I can't fight them alone," he said, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe. "And I won't let them touch you. We need to secure my legal proxy right now, before they try anything drastic."
