PART 2: The Hospital Realizes What Found the Girl
The ER didn’t move.
Not at first.
Even the monitors seemed louder in the silence that followed Dylan Harker’s words.
“I found her.”
The nurse’s eyes flicked to the child again—then to the bruises on her arms—and her expression tightened.
“That’s not what I asked,” she said carefully.
Dylan didn’t answer immediately.
He adjusted his grip on the girl slightly, as if making sure she was still real.
“She wasn’t alone when I got there,” he said quietly.
That changed the air.
A security guard near the entrance straightened instantly, hand drifting closer to his radio.
The little girl buried her face deeper into Dylan’s chest.
“No…” she whispered, almost soundless.
A doctor stepped forward now, slower than the nurse, eyes locked on Dylan.
“Sir, we need to know exactly where you found her.”
Dylan’s jaw flexed.
“Old service road off County 9,” he said. “Abandoned storage units.”
The nurse exchanged a quick look with the doctor.
That place had reports.
Too many reports.
Dylan finally looked down at the girl again.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Her voice barely came out.
“Lila.”
A pause.
Then Dylan asked the question he already feared the answer to.
“Who did this to you?”
Lila shook her head quickly.
“I’m not supposed to say.”
That line hit harder than anything else in the room.
Because kids don’t say that unless someone taught them to.
Dylan slowly lifted his gaze toward the glass ER doors behind the nurses.
Rain blurred the outside world.
Motorcycles still idled in the ambulance bay.
But now—
One of them wasn’t idling anymore.
It had shut off.
Clean.
Intentional.
Dylan’s grip tightened slightly.
The nurse noticed. “Sir?”
Dylan didn’t look at her.
“Lock the doors,” he said calmly.
The nurse blinked. “What?”
Dylan finally spoke louder.
“Lock. The doors.”
The security guard moved immediately.
Too late.
The automatic glass doors slid open again anyway.
Cold rain rushed in.
And a man stepped into the ER.
Dry.
Unbothered.
Like he hadn’t just crossed a storm.
He looked straight at Lila.
Then smiled faintly.
“There you are,” he said softly.
Dylan shifted his stance instantly, putting his body between them.
The entire ER changed in a second.
The nurses backed away.
The guard raised his radio.
But the man didn’t look at any of them.
Only Dylan.
And then, quietly:
“You’re holding something that doesn’t belong to you.”
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