The file sits open on Adrian’s tablet like something dangerous.
A small black square.
A timestamp.
Three years ago.
Hospital security footage.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
The city glows beyond the penthouse windows, indifferent to the weight pressing down inside this room. Traffic hums far below. Somewhere a helicopter cuts across the night sky.
But here—everything feels still.
Adrian studies the screen. His jaw tight. His shoulders rigid in a way I’ve only seen a few times since waking up.
“What is it?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he exhales slowly and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.
“Daniel’s team recovered archived security footage,” he says finally.
“From the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“But they said it was deleted.”
“They did.”
I step clo
