Chapter 3 - FOUR HOURS MISSING
Victor remembered that night too clearly once he allowed himself to.
Isabella had been exhausted.
Ellie had been born early that morning but healthy.
Victor had spent six hours beside them.
Then his phone rang.
Marco.
His younger brother.
“There’s smoke at Halsted.”
Victor remembered the exact words.
The family warehouse held legitimate pharmaceutical inventory worth millions.
A fire there mattered.
Victor kissed Isabella.
Promised twenty minutes.
Stayed away four hours.
Now the old records showed something else.
No real fire.
A manual alarm.
A small electrical scorch discovered later—
after employees arrived.
The scorch could have been staged.
Grace looked at the report.
“Who had access?”
Michael answered.
“Eight senior employees.”
Victor asked:
“Marco?”
“Yes.”
His brother had been operations director at the time.
Celestine’s husband.
Dead now.
Victor felt an old loyalty resist the implication.
Marco had adored Ellie.
Bought ridiculous toys.
Carried her around family dinners until she fell asleep on his shoulder.
Marco could not have helped threaten her.
Could he?
Envelope two waited.
Victor opened it.
Victor,
The warehouse call was not random.
I know because Marco admitted that part to me.
Victor stopped.
Michael looked away.
Grace stayed still.
Isabella continued.
Do not decide what that means until you finish this letter.
Victor almost smiled bitterly.
Again she knew him.
Marco told me somebody asked him to call you away from the hospital.
He believed it was a security precaution.
A threat had supposedly been made against you, and the safest plan was to get you away from Isabella’s maternity room before a rival knew where you were.
Victor’s brow furrowed.
Marco had thought he was protecting him.
Who asked Marco?
The next paragraph:
Marco refused to give me the name at first.
He said he had promised.
Later he told me the request came through Celestine.
Victor went still.
Michael exhaled.
Grace closed her eyes briefly.
There it was.
Celestine.
But Isabella’s letter continued.
Celestine told Marco the warning came from Security and that she was only passing it along.
Marco believed his wife.
I believe he truly did.
Victor read more slowly.
After you left, a man wearing hospital-maintenance clothing entered the neonatal corridor.
Helen saw him trying two restricted doors.
He disappeared before security caught him.
The credential used belonged to Marco.
Victor stared.
Not merely Marco calling Victor away.
Marco’s badge.
Isabella wrote:
Marco swore his credential card had been in his suit jacket that evening.
Celestine had brought that jacket to the hospital because he spilled coffee on the first one.
Victor lowered the paper.
Everything narrowed.
Grace said:
“That is still circumstantial.”
“I know.”
Good.
Victor surprised himself.
He was learning.
Isabella’s letter:
I confronted Celestine.
She denied touching the badge.
She told me I was hysterical from childbirth.
That was when I stopped believing her.
Victor’s jaw clenched.
He could hear Celestine saying it.
Cold.
Polished.
Dismissive.
The final lines:
Marco helped Helen move Ellie once he realized his badge had been used.
That is why you never knew.
He begged me not to tell you until he could find out who had manipulated him.
I agreed for forty-eight hours.
Then forty-eight hours became longer.
That was my mistake too.
Victor sat back.
Grace asked:
“Did Isabella ever tell you Marco was involved in moving Ellie?”
“No.”
He thought of those first days.
Isabella had seemed tense.
He blamed hormones.
Fatigue.
His own ignorance embarrassed him now.
He had been a new father.
A powerful man accustomed to knowing what happened around him.
And his wife was hiding a security crisis because she feared what he would do.
The next morning Victor called Celestine through attorneys.
No private confrontation.
“Did you tell Marco to call me away from the hospital?”
Her attorney objected.
Celestine answered anyway.
“Yes.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“Why?”
“There was a threat.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember what dress you wore at charity dinners ten years ago.”
Silence.
“Who warned you?”
“A security contact.”
“Name.”
“I don’t remember.”
Victor almost laughed.
“Did you handle Marco’s access badge?”
“No.”
“Did you visit the maternity floor?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Earlier.”
“Did you take Lila—”
He corrected himself.
“Ellie’s hairbrush eight years later because you were still afraid of what those letters could prove?”
Her attorney ended the call.
Victor looked at Grace.
“Useful?”
“Very.”
Celestine had confirmed the diversion.
Not the hospital intrusion.
Still, one secret was now fact.
Then Michael brought another record.
Hospital visitor log.
The night Ellie became “Whitaker,” Celestine entered the maternity building twice.
May you like
The second visit occurred seventeen minutes before the unauthorized credential was used.
And she had never mentioned it to Victor.
