Chapter 9 - The Annex Breach
"Mark, what's going on out there?" I asked, feigning sudden panic as I clutched our baby tighter to my chest.
"Stay here, Sarah. Don't move," Mark ordered sharply, his face draining of color as he strode toward the door. He threw it open and peered out into the dim hallway.
Before he could take a step out, two uniformed state troopers appeared in the corridor, flanked by a tall, sharp-eyed woman in a dark trench coat holding an open badge folder.
Detective Clara Hayes.
"Mark Reynolds?" Detective Hayes asked, her voice ringing out with absolute, unyielding authority.
Mark froze, gripping the doorframe so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Yes? Who are you? What is this about?"
"Detective Clara Hayes, State Police," she said crisply, stepping right up to the threshold of our room. "You are being detained in connection with an ongoing investigation into child trafficking, falsification of vital records, and institutional fraud."
The world inside room 304 seemed to implode. Mark staggered backward into the room, his eyes wide, shaking his head frantically.
"Trafficking? Are you insane?!" Mark shouted, his voice cracking with a mixture of absolute shock and rising terror. "My wife just had a traumatic delivery! We lost a child! You must have the wrong room—the wrong person!"
"We don't have the wrong person, Mr. Reynolds," Detective Hayes replied coldly, stepping fully into the room and motioning to the troopers behind her. "We have the security footage from the neonatal staging corridor three days ago. We have the wire transfer logs from Evelyn Vance’s offshore accounts. And, most importantly, we have nurse Judy cooperating with the district attorney's office."
Mark turned his head slowly, his eyes locking onto mine with a look of pure, unadulterated betrayal. The mask of the devoted husband had melted completely away, revealing the desperate, cornered predator underneath.
"Sarah..." Mark whispered, his voice trembling as he took a step toward my bed. "Tell them. Tell them it's a mistake. Tell them we lost our baby—"
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"We didn't lose him, Mark," I said, my voice cutting through the sterile room like a blade of ice as I sat up straight against the pillows. "You sold him."
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