Chapter 10: The Confrontation in the Archives
The flickering fluorescent light of the old hospital archives revealed Arthur standing right in the center of the cramped room, casually leaning against a towering metal shelving unit filled with dusty cardboard boxes. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling up toward water-stained ceiling tiles.
Eleanor gasped, stumbling backward against the concrete wall, while Clara instinctively threw her arm out in front of Maeve.
"Arthur! What are you doing here?" Eleanor demanded, her voice echoing sharply off the metal shelves. "Did Jonathan send you to head us off?"
Arthur took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling a thin cloud of gray smoke before letting out a dry, rasping chuckle.
"Jonathan thinks he owns everyone, Mrs. Vance," Arthur said calmly, tossing his cigarette onto the concrete floor and grinding it out with the heel of his boot. "But men like your father-in-law forget that the people at the bottom are the ones holding up the floorboards."
Maeve stepped out from behind Clara, her large, emotional eyes fixed on the former orderly with unwavering suspicion.
"If you're not working for him, why are you here?" Maeve asked, her voice steady and sharp. "What do you want?"
Arthur’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at Maeve, a complex shadow crossing his weathered face.
"I want what you want, kid. Justice," Arthur replied, walking over to a heavy metal desk in the corner of the room. He picked up a thick, leather-bound ledger covered in dust and slammed it down onto the surface with a dull thud. "These are the original intake logs from the night of the fire. Every signature, every bribe payment, every altered death certificate."
Clara stepped closer, her blue eyes wide as she stared at the ancient book.
"Does it prove grandfather forged the documents?" Clara asked breathlessly.
"It proves he paid off the coroner to declare your sister dead while she was still breathing in the incubator," Arthur said grimly. "With this book, and the locket, his empire comes crashing down by morning."
Eleanor reached out, her hands shaking as she touched the cover of the ledger.
"Then why didn't you take it to the police years ago, Arthur?" Eleanor asked, her voice laced with bitterness. "Why let us suffer all this time?"
"Because years ago, I didn't have anyone brave enough to stand up to the Vance family," Arthur said, looking directly at Maeve. "Until now."
Suddenly, the heavy iron door behind them slammed shut with a tremendous crash, plunging the room into absolute darkness for a split second before emergency red backup lights flickered on overhead.
Footsteps rushed down the hallway outside, accompanied by the cold, booming voice of Jonathan Vance echoing through the vents.
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"Cut the power to the basement! No one leaves this building alive!"
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