Chapter 14 - AMELIA'S LAST ROOM
My house was still a crime scene.
Why would Malcolm go there?
Then Tessa answered.
“The room.”
“What room?”
“Amelia’s sewing room.”
“That was emptied after she died.”
“Not the wall.”
I stared at her.
“She built a hidden cabinet behind the fabric shelves. She said if everything failed, the original patient consent forms would stay there.”
I felt a rush of anger and admiration so sharp it hurt.
Amelia had created backup after backup because she knew powerful men would destroy anything they could find.
We drove home with federal agents.
Smoke was already rising from the second floor.
“No,” Tessa whispered.
Malcolm had set the sewing room on fire.
Firefighters rushed inside.
I handed Noah to Agent Lee.
“You’re not going in,” he said.
I looked at him.
“My wife died for what’s in that room.”
Tessa stepped beside me.
“So did my niece.”
We went in behind a firefighter.
Heat rolled down the hallway.
The sewing room was burning fast.
Tessa kicked aside a collapsed shelf and pointed to a section of wall.
“There!”
The firefighter smashed through plaster.
Inside was a metal box.
I grabbed it with a blanket.
As we turned, Malcolm appeared in the doorway.
His coat was scorched. Blood ran from one temple.
He held a gun.
“Put it down.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You killed children.”
“I built medicines that saved thousands.”
“You buried four babies.”
“History remembers success, not casualties.”
I stepped between him and Tessa.
“You murdered my wife.”
“My son did.”
“You ordered it.”
His silence was enough.
Then behind Malcolm, a small voice came through the smoke.
“Elliot?”
Vivienne.
May you like
She had escaped federal transport again.
And she was holding Malcolm’s gun arm.
