Chapter 9
She recognized the handwriting instantly as belonging to Arthur; it was his birthday date, casually written down and forgotten. With trembling fingers, she punched the four digits into the keypad with a soft electronic beep.
The heavy steel mechanism clicked loudly, unlatching the massive door from its iron frame with a hollow groan. Clara pulled the door open a few inches, peering into the pitch-black room beyond.
May you like
She clicked her flashlight beam inside, revealing a small, windowless chamber fitted with a narrow cot, a medical IV stand, and a side table holding a tray of untouched water. Sitting huddled in the corner of the room was a pale, disheveled woman.
Clara stifled a scream with her hand, staring in absolute horror as the woman slowly raised her head into the light. It was Catherine Vance.
