Chapter 3
The distorted voice hung in the dead air of the hospital room like a ghost. Liam froze, the phone pressed hard against his ear as he stared across the room at Eleanor. The older woman’s posture stiffened perceptibly at the mention of the archive, her cold demeanor cracking for a single, fleeting micro-expression. She knew exactly what the archive was, and more importantly, she knew who held the master key.
“Who is this?” Liam demanded into the phone, ignoring the police officers closing in on his position. “Identify yourself right now!”
“No time, Dad,” the distorted voice replied, cutting through the static with sudden, piercing clarity. “Look at Chloe’s smartwatch. The encryption just decrypted a file from her physical therapy session last night.”
Liam dropped his gaze from Eleanor to his daughter’s wrist. The sleek black smartwatch resting against Chloe’s pale skin was glowing softly, casting a blue hue across her tear-stained cheeks. A blinking notification icon pulsed in the center of the glass display, indicating a newly arrived data packet transferred via local Bluetooth proximity.
“Step away from the phone, Mr. Vance,” the male police officer warned, drawing his baton slightly from its holster. “Put the device on the bed and place your hands behind your head. You’re coming with us for questioning regarding the contents of that evidence bag.”
“Wait, just give me ten seconds,” Liam pleaded, taking a desperate step toward the bed. “My daughter’s medical data is transmitting right now. Someone hacked her therapeutic monitor.”
Eleanor let out a sharp, dismissive laugh, adjusting her cuffs once more. “He’s stalling, Officer. He’s notorious for fabricating digital emergencies when cornered. Look at the man; he’s unstable, violent, and entirely unfit to exercise guardianship over a minor.”
Chloe reached out with her trembling, bruised arm, her small fingers tapping the smartwatch screen twice. The device emitted a soft chime, and a high-resolution holographic projection flickered into existence above the dial, casting a three-dimensional image of a medical facility basement directly onto the sterile white sheets.
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Liam stared at the projection, his breath catching in his throat as he recognized the flickering fluorescent tubes overhead. It was the basement of the very hospital they were currently standing in.
And strapped to a reinforced medical chair in the center of the projection was Eleanor’s missing personal assistant, holding up a newspaper dated from three years in the future.
