The Pattern
1189 Words
That evening
Terrance arrived at Lexi's apartment carrying Jasmine's notebook.
Within minutes, they compared notes.
The seven names.
The missing files.
The notebook.
Everything matched.
Neither wanted to say it out loud.
Because saying it made it real.
Finally, Lexi broke the silence.
"You think they were taken?"
Terrance stared at the photographs.
At the names.
At the evidence.
Then he answered.
"Yes."
A single word filled the room.
Dark.
Heavy.
Horrifying.
Because if they were right...
Jasmine wasn't an isolated case.
She was one victim among many.
A pattern.
A system.
A conspiracy hidden behind hospital walls.
Then Terrance noticed something else.
A date.
One of the names disappeared almost exactly six months before Jasmine.
Another six months before that.
And another.
A pattern.
Regular.
Predictable.
Planned.
His stomach dropped.
"Oh God."
"What?"
Terrance pointed at the dates.
Lexi's eyes widened.
"No."
"Yes."
Every disappearance occurred roughly six months apart.
Like clockwork.
Almost ritualistic.
Then both of them did the math.
The last disappearance had been nearly six months ago.
Which meant—
Another victim will be due soon.
Very soon.
And neither of them noticed the camera hidden inside the smoke detector above Lexi's living room.
Recording everything.
Watching every move.
Transmitting every word.
To someone sitting inside a dark room miles away.
Someone who slowly smiled as they listened.
Someone who whispered three chilling words into the darkness.
"They figured it out."
The smile widened.
"But too late."
Chapter Nine
The realization sat between us like a loaded gun.
Six months.
Every disappearance happened almost exactly six months apart.
Seven women.
Seven missing files.
Seven lives erased.
And according to the dates, another woman was due to disappear soon.
Maybe she already had.
The silence in my apartment became unbearable.
I stared at the names scattered across my kitchen table.
Names that once belonged to daughters.
Friends.
Girlfriends.
Women who had families waiting for them to come home.
Women who never did.
My stomach twisted.
"Someone has to know."
Terrance nodded.
"They do."
"Then why hasn't anyone talked?"
His expression darkened.
"Fear."
Unfortunately, I understood exactly what he meant.
Fear was a powerful thing.
Fear made people stay silent.
Fear made people look away.
Fear made people ignore evil standing directly in front of them.
The same way, fear kept Nicole trapped with Tony for years.
The same way people ignored bruises they didn't want to acknowledge.
Fear was powerful.
But so was guilt.
And eventually guilt always found its way back.
Terrance's phone buzzed.
His expression immediately changed.
"What?"
The voice on the other end spoke rapidly.
Terrance stood.
"Slow down."
His face grew pale.
Then he hung up.
"What happened?"
His eyes found mine.
"They found the nurse."
My heart jumped.
"The one who quit?"
He nodded.
"Where?"
His silence told me everything.
"Oh God."
Terrance swallowed hard.
"She's dead."
The room spun.
"What?"
"They found her this morning."
The words hit me like a brick.
The woman who might have known what happened to Jasmine.
The woman who had supposedly resurfaced.
Gone.
Just like that.
My hands started shaking.
Because this wasn't coincidence anymore.
People were being eliminated.
One by one.
Anyone connected to the truth.
Anyone who knew too much.
Anyone who might talk.
And now someone had died before they could tell us anything.
The message couldn't have been clearer.
Stop digging.
Or else.
Nicole
The nightmares were getting worse.
Every night brought new horrors.
Some involved Tony.
Some involved the shooting.
Others were different.
Darker.
The strange part was they felt real.
Too real.
I woke up sweating.
Again.
The hospital room was dark.
Quiet.
Everyone else appeared asleep.
Then I heard it.
A whisper.
My eyes snapped open.
Someone was speaking.
Very softly.
Outside my room.
I sat upright.
The voice continued.
Another voice answered.
Male.
Low.
Calm.
I carefully slid out of bed.
Pain immediately shot through my side.
I ignored it.
Slowly I moved toward the doorway.
The voices became clearer.
"...she wasn't supposed to survive."
My blood froze.
They were talking about me.
Another voice responded.
"Keep your voice down."
"What difference does it make?"
The first voice sounded irritated.
"The boyfriend screwed everything up."
Tony.
They were talking about Tony.
My pulse accelerated.
The second voice lowered his tone.
"The original plan worked."
"What about the others?"
Others?
My heart nearly stopped.
The first voice sighed.
"We'll handle it."
Then footsteps approached.
Quickly.
I rushed back into bed.
Seconds later, two hospital employees walked past my room.
Neither noticed me.
But I noticed them.
One was the doctor.
The same doctor Lexi had overheard.
The other wore hospital security credentials.
Neither looked concerned.
Neither looked nervous.
They looked comfortable.
Like men discussing routine business.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Terrance
Death never bothered me.
Not the way it bothered most people.
Growing up around violence changes you.
You become numb.
Detached.
Practical.
But this felt different.
The nurse wasn't some random casualty.
She was evidence.
A witness.
A person.
And now she was gone.
Which meant somebody was watching every move.
Every conversation.
Every lead.
Every step.
I sat inside my brother's hidden office reviewing photographs.
Maps covered the walls.
Names.
Dates.
Addresses.
Patterns.
Everything pointed back to the hospital.
Everything.
The deeper I dug, the uglier things became.
Then another discovery surfaced.
The black SUV wasn't alone.
There were three vehicles.
Different colors.
Different plates.
Same owners.
Shell companies.
Fake registrations.
Money trails leading nowhere.
Professional.
Organized.
Expensive.
Whoever was behind this had resources.
Real resources.
Not street-level money.
Not neighborhood money.
Bigger.
Much bigger.
Then my phone rang.
Lexi.
Immediately I answered.
"What's wrong?"
Her voice shook.
"I found another file."
My pulse quickened.
"What file?"
"The newest victim."
Every muscle in my body tightened.
"What?"
"The next woman."
I stood.
"Lexi..."
The fear in her voice stopped me cold.
"I know her."
I couldn't breathe.
I stared at the photograph on the computer screen.
Praying I was wrong.
Praying my eyes were playing tricks on me.
But they weren't.
The woman smiling back at me was familiar.
Too familiar.
She worked in the hospital cafeteria.
Twenty-three years old.
Always smiling.
Always friendly.
Always bringing extra cookies to patients.
Her name was Mia.
And according to hospital records...
She had just been admitted.
Three nights ago.
Following a minor vehicle accident.
No major injuries.
No reason for concern.
Yet somehow her file had already begun showing signs of alteration.
Exactly like Jasmine's.
Exactly like the others.
I immediately called Terrance.
Now we sat together inside my apartment.
Reviewing everything.
Mia's admission.
The pattern.
The timeline.
The connection.
Every road led to the same horrifying conclusion.
Mia was next.
The room felt heavy.
The realization unbearable.
Because for the first time we weren't investigating a cold case.
We weren't looking backward.
We were looking at someone still alive.
Someone who might still be saved.
Terrance leaned forward.
"We need to find her."
"How?"
"Before they move her."
I nodded.
The problem was we didn't know who "they" were.
Only that they existed.
And they were hiding in plain sight.
Inside the hospital.
- Writer
