Chapter 35 The footage

Chapter 35 The footage
Maya's POV

I was still sitting in the chair beside my father's bed. The cushion had gone warm from me sitting there and feeling very useless and confused.

Who are you? What do you want? Why are you doing this?

I really wish the answers would just appear and then I'd know what to do.

Justin was pacing, back and forth. His footsteps were soft on the linoleum, but I could feel them in my chest. Each step was a heartbeat, each turn was a thought he couldn't catch.

"Justin."

He didn't stop.

"Justin."

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

He stopped, then he turned to face me. His eyes were wide. His hand was raised, fingers snapped together like he'd just caught something.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, that's it."

"What's it?"

"Security footage." He started pacing again, but faster now. "There has to be security footage, cameras in the hallways, at the entrances. It will show who walked into this room and who walked out. There has to be a record."

Security footage. Of course.

Why didn't I think of that?

"Let's go," I said, standing up.

Justin held up his hand. "Wait. Stay with your father. I'll go find someone."

"Justin…"

"I'll be right back."

He was gone before I could argue.

The door swung shut behind him and I was alone with Papa and the beeping machines and the cold chair where someone had sat.

Please let there be footage.

Please let there be something.

Please let us catch whoever did this.



Justin came back ten minutes later.

His face was tight. He looked very angry.

"They won't give it to us," he said.

"What? Why not?"

"Privacy policies, hospital regulations. They said we need a police report or a warrant."

"Did you tell them what happened? Did you tell them someone broke into my father's room?"

"I told them everything."

"And they still said no?"

"They said they're sorry, but their hands are tied."

Their hands are tied?

Everyone's hands are tied but Mr. Dean's hands aren't tied, Sarah's hands aren't tied.

Whoever took that photo, their hands aren't tied.

Only ours. Only the people trying to do the right thing.

"I'll talk to them," I said.

"Maya…"

"I'll talk to them."

I walked out of the room before he could stop me.

The security desk was on the first floor. It was a small room with glass windows and a door that required a badge to open. A man sat inside, gray hair, a uniform that looked too tight. His name tag said Harper.

I knocked on the glass. He looked up, frowned and then slid the window.

"Can I help you?"

"I need to see the security footage from the third floor. Tonight. Someone was in my father's room."

Harper's frown deepened. "Ma'am, I can't just…"

"Someone was in my father's room while he was asleep. Someone took a picture of him and sent that picture to me with a threat." My voice was shaking. "I need to see who it was."

"I understand your concern, but hospital policy requires…"

"Please."

The word came out smaller and softer than I intended.

Please. I'm begging.

I never thought I'd beg a security guard for anything, but here I am.

Beggars and choosers and all that.

Harper shifted in his seat. "Ma'am, I really can't. Not without a police report or a warrant, those are the rules."

"Then call the police."

"They'd need to request the footage themselves. I can't just…"

"Please."

Justin appeared beside me. His hand found my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"She's not asking for much," he said. "Just a look. Just to see who was in the room."

Harper looked at him, then at me. Then down at his desk.

"I could lose my job over this."

"And my father could lose his life..."

No," he said, before we even finished explaining. "No police report, no footage. Those are the rules."

"But someone was in my father's room…"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I really am, but I can't help you."

"Can you at least tell us if there is footage? If the cameras were working?"

The guard hesitated.

"Please," Justin said. "That's all we're asking. Just tell us if there's something to see."

The guard looked at the ceiling. Then at the door. Then back at us.

"The cameras on the third floor were working tonight. As far as I know."

“Please, we're just coming from the police and nobody is willing to help us.” I said as a tear slid down my face. “My father might be in danger.”

The words hung in the air. Harper's face changed and something softened behind his eyes.

"Let me make a call," he said. "I can't promise anything."



The call took forever. Or maybe it was five minutes. I couldn't tell.

Time had stopped mattering.

Harper hung up the phone, then turned back to us.

“Come in.”

The security office was small. Monitors lined the walls. Each one showed a different part of the hospital, hallways, entrances and parking lots.

A technician sat in the middle of it all. Young, messy hair and coffee cup in his hand.

Harper walked in like he owned the place.

"Leo, I need you to pull up the third floor footage from tonight."

Leo blinked. "Harper, I can't just…"

"Leo."

"Harper…"

"Leo."

"Which wing?"

"East wing. Room 312."

Leo turned to his computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Give me a time frame."

"Between eight and eleven," Justin said.

Leo nodded, then the footage appeared on the main screen. Hours of nothing, empty hallways, nurses walking past, a janitor with a mop.

"Faster," Harper said.

Leo sped it up.

The footage blurred, figures moved like ghosts.

"Stop."

Leo stopped.

There was a figure. Hood up, face hidden and the person was walking toward my father's room.

"Who is that?" I whispered.

No one answered.

The figure reached the door, pushed it open and disappeared inside.

"Time stamp," Justin said.

"Nine forty-seven," Leo replied.

Nine forty-seven.

Exactly the same time as the picture was being sent to me.

Then the figure reappeared again, he looked up straight at the camera and reached toward it and suddenly the screen went black.

"What happened?" I asked.

Leo's face was pale. "The camera went offline."

"Offline?"

"It's not supposed to do that, not unless someone…" He stopped.

"Unless someone what?"

Leo looked at Harper.

"Someone disabled it," Leo said quietly. "Whoever this is... they knew what they were doing. They knew exactly where the camera was and how to shut it down."

Someone disabled the camera. Someone knew what they were doing.

This wasn't random. This was planned.

Justin was quiet. I could see him thinking, connecting dots and building a map in his head.

"Thank you," he said. "Both of you. We won't forget this."

Harper nodded but Leo didn't say anything. He was still staring at the black screen.

We walked out of the security office. The hallway was empty and quiet.

Justin stopped walking.

"The bruises on Chloe's wrist," he said. "The photo of your father, the text threatening his job."

He looked at me.

"Sarah isn't working alone."

"What do you mean?" I asked, but I already knew.

"Someone else is helping her. Someone who knows how to disable cameras."

"But who?" I whispered. "Who could that be?"

Justin didn't answer.

The question hung in the air between us.

Who? Who is helping her? Who is willing to hurt people for her? Who is dangerous enough to do all of this and still stay hidden?

I didn't know.

But somewhere in the dark, whoever it was, they were watching and waiting.

And I had the feeling we were about to find out.