Chapter 7 - The Patient in Room 417

|
The medical facility was called Saint Aurelia Rehabilitation Center.
It stood outside Geneva, surrounded by wooded hills and manicured gardens.
According to its public records, it specialized in neurological rehabilitation, long-term recovery, and treatment for patients requiring extensive assistance.
Paige stared at the building on Evelyn's laptop.
“Is Lucia there?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“We don't know.”
Gabriel stood beside the window.
His hands were clenched.
For three years, he'd believed his sister had been killed.
Now there was a payment connected to a medical facility.
And the reference number matched a document Paige remembered from Colin's office.
It could be coincidence.
It could be a billing reference.
Or it could mean something much more important.
Gabriel looked toward Evelyn.
“Can we contact them?”
“We can make inquiries through the proper channels.”
“I want someone there.”
“Then we'll coordinate with Swiss counsel and the relevant authorities.”
Gabriel exhaled sharply.
Paige watched him.
He looked like a man trying to remain calm while standing at the edge of a cliff.
“Gabriel,” she said softly.
He turned.
“She's not confirmed to be there.”
“I know.”
“You can't build your whole heart around one number.”
He gave a sad smile.
“Too late.”
That evening, Evelyn arranged a conference call with a Swiss attorney named Adrienne Keller.
Adrienne explained that patient information was protected by strict privacy laws.
The facility couldn't simply disclose whether someone was receiving treatment.
But the financial records, combined with evidence of possible identity fraud and unlawful confinement, could support a formal investigation.
Paige listened carefully.
Then asked, “What if Lucia was admitted under a different name?”
Adrienne nodded.
“That would be one of the possibilities investigators would examine.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“How long?”
“I can't promise a timeline.”
He looked away.
Adrienne continued.
“But we can preserve the relevant records immediately and request assistance from the authorities.”
After the call, Gabriel left the room.
Paige found him later in the estate's underground gym.
He was standing beside a punching bag.
His knuckles were red.
His breathing was uneven.
For the first time since the cathedral, he looked less like a powerful man and more like someone falling apart.
“Gabriel?”
He turned.
Then looked away.
“You shouldn't be down here.”
Paige folded her arms.
“Why?”
“It's not exactly a pleasant place.”
She glanced at the punching bag.
“Neither was my wedding.”
He almost smiled.
Then his expression collapsed.
“She might have been alive all this time.”
Paige stepped closer.
“We don't know yet.”
“Three years.”
His voice cracked.
“Three years, Paige.”
She said nothing.
He continued.
“I spent three years looking for a grave.”
Paige's throat tightened.
Gabriel pressed a hand against his face.
“I should have found her.”
She remembered something Helen had told her that morning.
After Lucia disappeared, Gabriel stopped sleeping.
He hired investigators.
Traveled constantly.
Followed every lead.
And became more ruthless with every disappointment.
Paige looked at him.
“You didn't make her disappear.”
He gave a bitter laugh.
“I made enemies she shouldn't have had.”
“Maybe.”
The answer surprised him.
Paige continued.
“But the people who hurt her are responsible for what they did.”
Gabriel stared.
Then nodded slowly.
For several minutes, they stood in silence.
Finally, Paige asked, “What was Lucia like?”
Gabriel looked toward the floor.
Then something softened in his face.
“She loved terrible music.”
Paige blinked.
“What?”
“Awful pop songs from the early 2000s. Played them at full volume.”
Paige smiled.
“Really?”
“She'd dance in the kitchen while making coffee.”
His voice warmed.
“And she burned toast every morning. Every single morning.”
Paige laughed softly.
Gabriel smiled.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
“She used to leave little notes on my desk.”
“What kind?”
“Things like, 'Try being a decent human today.'”
Paige laughed through her own tears.
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was.”
Gabriel looked away.
Then corrected himself.
“She is.”
The distinction mattered.
The following morning, Evelyn received an urgent call.
Swiss authorities had confirmed that the clinic's archived billing records included a patient associated with the reference 417.
The admission occurred two days after Lucia disappeared.
Paige felt her heart pounding.
“Was it her?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“The patient's registered name was Elena Marin.”
Gabriel frowned.
“That isn't Lucia.”
“No.”
But then Evelyn continued.
“The admission file listed an American woman approximately Lucia's age, with serious neurological injuries.”
Gabriel sat down.
Hard.
Paige moved beside him.
His breathing had changed.
“Is she still there?” he asked.
Evelyn looked at the screen.
“The records indicate the patient was transferred eighteen months ago.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“Where?”
“That information is being traced.”
A terrible silence followed.
Then Evelyn added, “There's another detail.”
Paige looked up.
“What?”
“The person who authorized the original admission used a financial guarantee from Aster Holdings.”
Her stomach turned.
“My company.”
“The company registered in your name.”
Gabriel slowly raised his head.
“And who signed the admission paperwork?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“The listed guarantor was Colin Hale.”
Paige felt the room go cold.
Colin hadn't simply helped move money.
He had arranged for a young woman to disappear behind another name.
Then Evelyn's phone rang again.
She answered.
Listened.
And went completely still.
When she ended the call, she looked directly at Gabriel.
“There's been a development.”
He could barely speak.
“What?”
“Authorities have located a facility that received Elena Marin eighteen months ago.”
Gabriel stood.
May you like
Evelyn took a breath.
“The patient is alive.”