Chapter 6 - The Price of Eighty Thousand Dollars
The warehouse became a negotiation before it became a gunfight.
Liam O’Connor liked hearing himself speak.
That saved lives.
He stood above them explaining how Saint Agatha was worth more than any dock, casino or protection route.
Human data was the new contraband.
A patient could generate millions if the right experimental compound produced the right response.
Failures were not useless.
Deaths created data too.
Sophia wanted to vomit.
“You’re describing people like lab animals.”
Liam smiled.
“No. Lab animals are regulated more carefully.”
Declan’s hand tightened around his weapon.
Sullivan stood beside Liam.
“I told you she was emotional.”
Sophia looked at him.
“You charged me eighty thousand dollars to let them experiment on Elise.”
“I gave you a choice.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You found me in a hospital cafeteria after I had not slept for two days. You told me my sister would lose her treatment slot by morning.”
“That is still a choice.”
“No. That is a threat wearing paperwork.”
Sullivan shrugged.
“Semantics.”
Declan raised his weapon.
Liam’s men immediately aimed at Sophia.
Declan stopped.
Liam laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The problem.”
His gaze moved between them.
“She matters.”
Declan’s expression became blank.
“No.”
Sophia almost turned toward him.
Then understood.
Declan was lying for her.
Liam smiled.
“You bought her debt.”
“A staffing decision.”
“You moved her into your private wing.”
“Security.”
“You brought her here.”
“She identified files.”
Liam looked at Sophia.
“Does that hurt?”
She answered before Declan could.
“No.”
Liam’s smile faded slightly.
Sophia continued.
“Because unlike you, I understand why someone lies when a gun is pointed at me.”
Declan’s eyes moved toward her.
Something unspoken passed between them.
Then Mrs. Gable’s voice came through Sullivan’s phone.
“Sophia.”
She was alive.
Sophia stepped forward.
“Margaret?”
The older woman laughed weakly.
“So you found the name.”
“Where are you?”
“Don’t trade anything for me.”
Sullivan struck her off-camera.
Sophia flinched.
Declan’s face changed.
Liam said,
“We want the archive key.”
Sophia remembered the key Margaret had given her.
It was in her pocket.
“What does it open?”
Liam smiled.
“You tell me.”
He did not know.
Good.
Margaret had split the evidence.
Perhaps the key was useless without a location.
Sophia reached into her pocket.
Declan whispered,
“Don’t.”
She looked at him.
“I owe her.”
“No.”
“She tried to expose what killed Elise.”
“She also helped put Elise into the program.”
That stopped Sophia.
She looked toward the phone.
Margaret closed her eyes.
Sullivan laughed.
“There it is.”
Sophia felt cold.
“Tell me.”
Margaret spoke slowly.
“I chose Elise.”
The words cut deeper than any bullet could.
Sophia’s mouth went dry.
“What?”
“Her biomarkers matched Catherine’s.”
Declan stiffened.
Margaret continued.
“I believed if I could prove the same compound killed another patient, I could expose what happened to my sister.”
Sophia could barely breathe.
“You used Elise.”
“I thought the early protocol would help her.”
“You used her.”
“Yes.”
The honesty was almost worse.
“I am sorry.”
Sophia’s eyes filled.
“You watched me work in that house.”
“Yes.”
“You watched collectors threaten me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew the whole time.”
“Yes.”
Sophia whispered,
“I hate you.”
Margaret nodded.
“You should.”
Liam sighed dramatically.
“Family therapy later.”
Then chaos erupted.
Not from Declan.
From Finn.
A shot came from the rear entrance.
One of O’Connor’s men fell.
Lights shattered.
Declan grabbed Sophia and pulled her behind a refrigeration unit.
Gunfire exploded.
Sullivan ran.
Liam disappeared behind the catwalk stairs.
Finn shouted,
“GO!”
Declan fired twice.
Sophia crawled toward Sullivan’s dropped phone.
The video still ran.
Behind Margaret was a concrete wall painted yellow.
A number visible above the door.
17.
Sophia recognized it.
Saint Agatha.
Old research wing.
Room 17.
“They’re holding her at the hospital!”
Declan heard.
He ordered half his men there.
Then Finn fell.
A bullet struck his side.
Declan caught him behind cover.
Finn gasped,
“I’m sorry.”
Declan pressed his hand over the wound.
“Save it.”
“I should’ve told you.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I was protecting what Patrick left.”
Declan looked at him.
“My father left rot.”
Finn laughed weakly.
“Then burn it.”
Sirens appeared outside.
Not police.
Federal agents.
Liam had been under investigation independently.
Someone had tipped them off.
Margaret?
Maybe.
Sullivan was arrested near the loading dock.
Liam escaped into the river through a maintenance tunnel.
Sophia barely cared.
She wanted Saint Agatha.
They reached Room 17 thirty minutes later.
Empty.
Blood on the chair.
Cut restraints.
No Margaret.
Only a recorder.
Sophia pressed play.
Margaret’s voice filled the room.
“If you found this, Liam moved me.”
Pause.
“Sophia, the eighty thousand dollars never paid for Elise’s treatment.”
Sophia froze.
“It was a purchase.”
Her stomach turned.
“Saint Agatha paid Sullivan eighty thousand dollars for recruitment rights to Elise’s case.”
Declan’s face hardened.
Sophia whispered,
“I owed money that was never spent on her.”
Margaret continued.
“The debt existed only to control you after Elise died.”
Sophia sat down.
Two years of double shifts.
Threats.
Exhaustion.
All for a fabricated debt.
Declan had “bought” nothing.
Sullivan sold him a fiction.
The recorder continued.
“And Declan—if you are listening, your father knew.”
A pause.
“He designed the debt system.”
Declan closed his eyes.
Sophia looked at him.
Patrick Walsh had not merely built Saint Agatha.
He had invented the chain that kept grieving families enslaved after patients died.
Margaret’s final words came quietly.
“The original contracts are beneath Catherine House.”
Then the recording clicked off.
Sophia stood.
“Let’s go.”
Declan did not move.
She looked at him.
“What?”
He looked suddenly older.
“If those contracts exist, exposing them destroys my father’s name.”
Sophia stared.
Then he laughed bitterly.
“I heard myself.”
She waited.
May you like
Declan stood.
“Let’s destroy it properly.”
