Chapter 2 - The Safe In Room 402

The heavy mahogany doors of Kenneth’s executive suite on the fourth floor of Rollins Global Enterprises opened with a low, vacuum-sealed hiss.
Outside, the rain beat relentlessly against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Denver, casting long, dramatic shadows across his empty desk.
I walked directly toward the antique bookcase in the corner, swinging the hidden wooden panel aside to reveal the heavy iron floor safe.
My fingers were remarkably steady as I entered the seven-digit code Kenneth had stammered through his tears in the emergency room: 4 - 8 - 9 - 1 - 2 - 0 - 5.
The internal deadbolts disengaged with a sharp, heavy mechanical thud, and the thick steel door swung open smoothly on its hinges.
Inside sat three heavy velvet-lined boxes, six ledger books bound in black leather, and a confidential medical file bearing a red wax seal.
I reached for the medical folder first, my heart hammering violently against my ribs as I recognized the emblem of the Rocky Mountain Fertility Clinic.
Six years ago, after two years of trying to conceive, Kenneth had delivered the heartbreaking news that I was biologically unable to carry a child.
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I opened the folder, my eyes scanning down the certified medical lab reports until they landed on the original diagnostic panel signed in 2020.
My breath hitched sharply in my throat as the true, horrifying reality of his ultimate cruelty was revealed on the page in black and white.