Chapter 9 - ROOM TWELVESaint-Antoine Medical Center no longer existed under its original name.
The building had been sold, renovated, and reopened as a private rehabilitation hospital.
Its exterior looked modern.
But beneath the fresh paint and polished glass, the old structure remained.
Camille stood outside the entrance, staring at the building where her life had been divided in two.
Thirty years earlier, Claire had entered pregnant with twins.
She had left carrying only one daughter.
Now Camille had returned to find the other.
Thomas insisted they contact the authorities before entering.
Daniel agreed.
Madeleine, however, shook her head.
“You don't understand.”
Camille turned.
“Then explain.”
Madeleine sat in the back seat, wrapped in a blanket.
Her hands still trembled.
“Étienne has people inside the hospital.”
“Who?”
“I don't know their names.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I worked with them.”
Silence.
Geneviève stared at her sister.
“Madeleine.”
Madeleine lowered her head.
“I helped falsify the records.”
Camille felt her chest tighten.
“You helped steal Juliette?”
Madeleine began crying.
“Yes.”
The admission seemed to fill the car.
Camille stared at the woman who had helped deliver her.
For thirty years, Madeleine had carried the truth.
And for thirty years, Camille's sister had lived without knowing her birth family.
“Why?”
Madeleine wiped her face.
“Because I was threatened.”
Camille shook her head.
“Everyone was threatened. Everyone was afraid. But Juliette was the one who lost her mother.”
Madeleine accepted the accusation.
“I know.”
“Did you ever try to find her?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After I left the hospital. I spent years trying to locate the children transferred through the program.”
Camille frowned.
“Children?”
Madeleine nodded.
“Juliette wasn't the only one.”
Thomas leaned forward.
“How many?”
Madeleine looked at him.
“At least twenty-three.”
Geneviève covered her mouth.
Daniel stared.
“Twenty-three children?”
“Possibly more.”
Camille felt sick.
“What happened to them?”
“Some were placed with families who believed they were adopting legally. Others were transferred through private arrangements.”
Thomas's expression hardened.
“Were the biological mothers told their babies had died?”
Madeleine nodded.
“Sometimes.”
Camille looked away.
Twenty-three families.
Twenty-three children.
Perhaps more.
Lives divided by lies.
Birthdays celebrated beneath false names.
Mothers grieving babies who were still alive.
Children wondering why they never quite resembled the people who raised them.
The scale of the cruelty was almost impossible to comprehend.
“Why did Étienne do it?” Camille asked.
Madeleine hesitated.
“Money. Influence. Control. He built a network around vulnerable families and people desperate to have children.”
Thomas looked at Daniel.
“We need an immediate investigation.”
Daniel nodded.
“But first we need Juliette.”
Madeleine leaned forward.
“Room Twelve.”
Camille turned.
“What?”
“That's where they kept the original records.”
“Is it still there?”
“I don't know.”
“Why would Étienne take Juliette there?”
Madeleine's eyes filled with fear.
“Because she found the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“A handwritten register containing the names of the children, their biological parents, and the families who received them.”
Thomas sat straighter.
“Does it still exist?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Madeleine looked at the hospital.
“Behind the wall in Room Twelve.”
Camille stared.
“You hid it?”
Madeleine nodded.
“After Lucien disappeared, I copied the original records and concealed them.”
“Why didn't you give them to the police?”
“I tried. The officer I contacted warned Étienne.”
Daniel's face tightened.
“Vasseur.”
Madeleine nodded.
“Yes.”
Thomas checked his phone.
“I've contacted a prosecutor I trust. She's arranging for investigators to meet us.”
Camille looked toward the hospital.
“How long?”
“Forty minutes.”
Camille shook her head.
“Juliette may not have forty minutes.”
Thomas studied her.
“I know.”
Daniel opened the car door.
“Then we find a way to verify she's inside without putting everyone at risk.”
They entered through the main reception area.
Camille wore a scarf and kept her head lowered.
Thomas approached the desk.
“We're here to inquire about a patient.”
The receptionist looked up.
“Name?”
“Juliette Armand.”
She typed.
“No patient by that name.”
Camille felt her stomach tighten.
Thomas remained calm.
“Could you check recent admissions?”
The receptionist hesitated.
Then looked toward a security guard.
Daniel noticed.
He stepped closer.
“Perhaps we should speak to the administrator.”
The guard approached.
“Is there a problem?”
Thomas presented his identification.
“We're conducting a lawful inquiry.”
The guard's expression changed.
“Please wait here.”
He spoke quietly into a radio.
Camille glanced toward the corridor.
At the far end, an elevator opened.
Two men emerged.
Between them walked a woman.
Her wrists were hidden beneath a coat.
Her head was lowered.
Camille recognized her immediately.
Juliette.
For one impossible moment, the sisters were only twenty feet apart.
Camille took a step forward.
“Juliette.”
The woman looked up.
Their eyes met.
Camille saw her own face.
But she also saw terror.
Juliette's lips moved.
One word.
Run.
Then one of the men pushed her toward a side corridor.
Camille lunged forward.
“Juliette!”
Daniel caught her arm.
“Wait!”
The security guard stepped in front of them.
“Ma'am, you need to remain here.”
Camille struggled.
“That's my sister!”
Thomas raised his voice.
“Stand aside. We're requesting police assistance.”
The guard reached for his radio.
Daniel moved between him and Camille.
“Don't touch her.”
Suddenly, an alarm sounded.
A recorded voice announced an emergency evacuation.
The lobby erupted into confusion.
Patients and staff began moving toward the exits.
Camille looked down the corridor.
Juliette was gone.
Thomas grabbed her arm.
“We need to leave and regroup.”
But Camille had already seen something.
A small brass sign beside the corridor.
Former Maternity Wing.
Below it, barely visible beneath fresh paint, were the numbers:
12.
Camille pulled away.
She ran.
Behind her, Thomas shouted her name.
She reached the corridor just as a heavy door began closing.
She slipped through.
The door locked behind her.
Camille found herself in a dim hallway.
At the far end stood Juliette.
Alone.
Her hands were free.
Her face was pale.
“Camille,” she whispered.
Camille stopped.
For thirty years, she had imagined what it might feel like to meet the sister she never knew existed.
Now the moment had arrived.
But Juliette wasn't smiling.
She was crying.
“Don't come closer.”
Camille stared.
“Why?”
Juliette lifted her hand.
A small black device rested in her palm.
A red light blinked.
Camille's blood ran cold.
May you like
Juliette whispered.
“They told me if you open that door, they'll kill everyone in this wing.”
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