Chapter 9: The Hospital Scene
The sliding glass doors of Bellview Medical hissed open, letting in a draft of cool, sterile air. Noah stepped inside, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, his thoughts still tangled in the wreckage of the past week.
The fluorescent lights here didn’t hum—they hissed. A low, almost electrical sound that made the place feel alive in the worst way.
Room 214. He knew the number by heart.
James Keene was sitting up in bed when Noah walked in. His father’s once-broad shoulders had shrunk inside the thin hospital gown. But his eyes—those eyes were still the sharp, storm-colored eyes Noah had grown up fearing and admiring.
“You came,” James said without looking directly at him, his voice almost casual.
“I said I would.” Noah pulled the chair closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
James’s gaze drifted toward the window. Outside, a line of gray clouds crept over the hills. “They burned her alive,” he murmured.
Noah frowned. “Who?”
James turned, and for the first time, Noah saw the tremor in his father’s hands. “They said they’d do it again. Said the fire was just the beginning.”
Noah leaned forward. “Dad, what are you talking about?”
James’s voice was a whisper now. “The girl. The one who knew too much. They didn’t want her talking.”
A cold knot formed in Noah’s chest. “You mean… here? In Bellview?”
James nodded slowly, eyes unfocused, like he was seeing the scene again in his head. “I can still hear her screaming.” His voice cracked, raw. “They told me to drop it. I didn’t. Then… boom.”
The word hit Noah like a punch.
Boom.
He was twelve again, standing outside their old house in the city, the sky orange with fire. The air smelled of gasoline and burnt wood. His mother’s body had been pulled from the wreckage hours later. The official report said it was an accident. Noah never believed it.
“Dad…” Noah’s voice was tight. “Are you saying Mom’s death—”
James cut him off, his gaze snapping to Noah’s with sudden clarity. “They don’t stop, son. They don’t forget. You think you’re safe because time passes, but they just wait until you’re looking the other way.”
Noah sat back, the chair creaking. “This is about the files I found, isn’t it? The court documents. The notes.”
James smiled faintly—sad, almost proud. “You found them.”
“Yeah, I found them. But they’re pieces of something I don’t understand. Dad, who’s the boy in red?”
James’s breathing slowed. “He’s the reason they came for her. And for me. Find him… and you’ll find them.”
Before Noah could press further, the nurse walked in with a tray. “Mr. Keene, time for your medication.”
James leaned back into the pillows, closing his eyes. “Don’t trust the sheriff,” he murmured, just loud enough for Noah to hear. “He’s already chosen a side.”
The nurse gave Noah a polite but firm smile. “Five minutes, please.”
Noah nodded and stood, watching his father take the pills. When James opened his eyes again, they were softer, almost blank. Whatever door had opened in his mind just moments ago was shut again.
Noah stepped into the hallway, pulling out his phone. He scrolled past a dozen ignored messages from the city until he found the number for the one person who might still owe him a favor.
It was time to start asking questions about Bellview.