Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Snow
The CarterTech Medical Facility on Ontario Street was a fortress of glass, steel, and state-of-the-art medical technology, completely secure from the public and the media.
When the SUV pulled into the heated subterranean bay, a trauma team headed by Dr. Robert Harrison—Nathan’s personal physician and Chief of Medicine—was already waiting with a gurney and rapid-rewarming equipment.
"Severe hypothermia, core temp likely below 88 degrees, advanced malnutrition, frostbite on extremities!" Dr. Harrison called out as they lifted Elena from the back seat. "Get her straight to the thermal rewarming unit! IV warm saline, blood gas panel, now!"
Nathan stood in the sterile, brightly lit hallway, his hands covered in melted snow and grime from Elena’s coat. His chest was heaving.
Chloe stood beside him, holding his knee tightly, her eyes fixed on the double doors where the doctors had rushed Elena away.
"Is she going to be okay, Daddy?" Chloe asked softly.
Nathan sank down onto a bench in the hallway, lifting Chloe onto his lap and holding her close. He was shivering now, not from the cold, but from the sudden, violent resurgence of memories he had buried five years ago.
"The doctors are helping her, Chloe. You were very brave out there. You saved her life tonight."
"She knew my name, Daddy," Chloe said, looking up into his face with innocent wonder. "And she said 'my baby.' Why did she say that?"
Nathan’s jaw tightened. He stroked Chloe’s hair, his mind racing. Why did Elena say that?
Half an hour later, Dr. Harrison stepped out of the trauma room, pulling off his surgical mask. His expression was grim, but relieved.
"We caught her just in time, Nathan," Harrison said quietly. "Another fifteen minutes on that bench and her heart would have given out. Her core temp was 87.2 degrees. We’ve initialized internal fluid rewarming and treated the frostbite on her hands. She’s stabilized, but she’s severely malnourished. She hasn't had a proper meal in weeks."
"Will she recover?" Nathan asked, his voice tight.
"Physically? Yes, with time and intensive care," Harrison replied. He hesitated, looking around the empty hallway before leaning closer to Nathan. "Nathan... while we were removing her clothing to attach the monitoring leads, we found something sewn into the inner lining of her vest."
Harrison reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sealed plastic bag. Inside was a heavily worn, encrypted USB flash drive wrapped in a piece of paper covered in tight, desperate hand-written notes.
"What is this?" Nathan asked, taking the bag.
"I haven't opened the file, but I read the top line of the note," Harrison said gravely. "It’s dated five years ago—the night Sarah died. It’s written in Elena’s handwriting."
Nathan looked down at the paper. Through the clear plastic, he read the jagged, ink-stained words:
May you like
If I die, tell Nathan the truth. I didn't steal the algorithm. Julian lied. They killed Sarah's treatment protocol to monetize the patent. They are trying to erase Chloe.
Nathan felt as if the floor beneath him had dropped into a bottomless abyss.
