Two days had passed since Emily's death.
Her funeral was small, quiet just a handful of old neighbors, a priest Kevin barely knew, and a coffin that looked far too small for the world it was leaving behind.
Kevin barely remembered the prayers or the handful of dirt falling onto polished wood. What he remembered was Matt standing just out of reach there, but not beside him. She'd offered a single white rose. He hadn't taken it. He didn't know how.
Now, the sun had set on the city, washing the hospital in orange and blue shadows. Matt sat at a computer deep in the administrative wing, the click of keys echoing in the empty hallway. She was off-shift but tonight, she wasn't a nurse. Tonight, she was a daughter betraying her father.
She had always known where the secrets were buried folders labeled Charity Reallocation, Deferred Accounts, Vendor Bonuses but she'd never had the nerve to open them before.
Each document she pulled up told the same story: funds siphoned, hardship waivers denied, real money shifted into "consulting" payments that led nowhere.
The numbers made her stomach twist. Each dollar stolen was a treatment not given. A bed not filled. A life like Emily's cut short.
A noise in the hall made her flinch. She quickly locked the screen. Her heart hammered she half-expected her father's voice to slice through the dark.
Meanwhile, Kevin wasn't sleeping. He sat on the splintered steps of his tiny apartment building what was left of it, anyway. He hadn't paid rent since Emily got sick. Now there was an eviction notice taped to his door, flapping in the breeze like a cruel joke.
The wristband was still in his pocket. He turned it over and over in his hand. He should have sold the car sooner. Called more charities. Begged harder. Maybe he'd failed her after all.
But as he sat there under the dull streetlight, Matt's words wouldn't leave him.
Expose him. Take him down.
He didn't trust her. Not yet. But he hated Richard Holloway enough to risk it.
He stood up and walked back toward the hospital. Toward Matt. Toward the only fight he had left.
Matt was still at the computer when she heard the quiet tap on the glass. She turned and there he was. Kevin. Eyes dark, hollow but alive with something new.
He pushed open the door. He didn't speak at first. He just looked at her, at the piles of files and folders open on the desk.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out Emily's wristband, setting it beside the keyboard.
"Show me everything," he said.
Matt's breath caught. She nodded once.
Outside, the hospital hummed like nothing had changed. But somewhere deep inside its walls, a secret war had just begun.