HE SH.OT ME AT MY OWN MEDAL CEREMONY—THEN STILL CLAIMED I WAS ‘UNSTABLE.’”

Agent Ross immediately stepped toward the door, checking the corridor before locking the deadbolt. General Sterling stood guard by the window, his hand resting instinctively near his sidearm.

"Mark," I whispered, reaching down with trembling fingers to touch my brother's messy hair. "Mark, look at me."

He lifted his face. His left eye was ringed with yellow-purple bruising, partially concealed beneath cheap drugstore makeup that had started to run from his tears.

My breath caught. "Did he do that to you?"

Mark swallowed hard, wiping his face on his sleeve. "When he found the letter from the probate lawyer... he went berserk, Maya. He tore the study apart. He smashed Mom's old portrait. He said... he said you were going to take everything we had left, that you were going to put us on the street."

"You know that's a lie," I said fiercely. "Everything Mom had belongs to you, too. He was robbing us both."

"I know," Mark choked out. "I'm not a kid anymore, Maya. I see what he is. For years, he kept me isolated. He told me you abandoned us when you joined the Air Force. He told me you hated me because I had his blood." Mark reached into the interior lining of his denim jacket, ripping open a hidden seam. He pulled out a worn, leather-bound notebook and a brass safety deposit key. "He spent three days looking for these. He thought I didn't know where Mom kept her private things. But I remembered the floorboard under her sewing table."

Ross stepped forward, her investigator's instincts flaring. "What is that?"

"Mom's real journal," Mark said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "The one from the last six months of her life. She wrote down every dose of medication he gave her. She wrote about the drinks that tasted like copper. She wrote that she knew he was poisoning her slow enough that the doctors would think it was early-onset kidney failure."

The room went dead silent. The only sound was the sterile hum of the air filtration unit.

"She knew," I whispered, tears finally breaking past my guard. "She knew he was killing her, and she couldn't get out."

"She was terrified he'd turn on Maya," Mark said, looking at General Sterling. "Mom stayed because Richard threatened to have Maya placed in a state facility if she tried to run. He was an influential municipal judge back then; everyone believed him."

Ross took the journal using latex gloves from the medical kit on the wall. She flipped open the yellowed pages, her eyes widening as she scanned the precise handwriting and dates.

"This changes the game," Ross said, looking at Sterling. "This isn't just attempted murder at the base. This establishes a ten-year pattern of premeditated murder, extortion, and child abuse. If we link this to the forged trust documents, his entire defense crumbles."

"Then we move fast," Sterling commanded. "Mark, you're staying under federal protection starting right now. You don't go back to that house. You don't talk to his lawyers."

Before Mark could answer, the room’s lights flickered.

Once. Twice.

Down the hallway, a fire alarm began to wail—a shrill, pulsing horn that cut through the silence.

The guard outside pounded twice on the door. "Agent Ross! Main power to the wing just dropped! Backup generators are kicking in, but security feeds on the third floor just went dark!"

Ross instantly drew her concealed Glock 19, positioning herself between the door and my bed. "Sterling, get behind the partition with Mark. Vance, can you hold a sidearm?"

"Give it to me," I grunted, rolling onto my left side, suppressing the blinding wave of nausea that threatened to knock me out.

Sterling drew his standard-issue Beretta from his holster, racked the slide, and placed it firmly in my right hand. The cold steel felt familiar, grounding.

Through the small frosted glass window of the hospital room door, a dark shadow moved. Not the uniform of a security officer. A tall, broad-shouldered figure wearing civilian maintenance overalls.

The doorknob rattled violently.

"Military police!" Ross shouted, leveling her weapon. "Step back from the door and show your hands!"