Unwanted Blood (Harper) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Harper’s POV

We arrived at the Gadigal Center before anyone else was there.

The front lobby was quiet-just the hum of the fluorescent lights and the faint smell of lemon floor cleaner. Mrs. Patel, the receptionist, was already at her desk, sorting through a stack of envelopes with her reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

She looked up when the door chimed.

“Harper, dear. You’re early. Everything alright?”

“I need to check the mail log,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “For the past week. Anything addressed to me.”

She set her glasses down and reached into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. Her fingers shuffled through a manila folder, pulling out a carbon-copy receipt sheet.

“Oh, there was something,” she said slowly. “Just moments ago, a letter addressed to Harper Wilson arrived.” She reached under the desk and pulled out a small brown letter.

I took it. Then I walked to the staff break room, locked the door, and sat at the small table by the window.

I tore the envelope open, then I unfolded it.

It written:

“The password is your first cry-time and place, only you know.”

Obviously, Martha had anticipated this.

I didn’t have time to think about why she was helping me. Why a woman who’d worked for the people who destroyed her family had chosen to send me a lifeline instead of walking away.

I didn’t have time.

I stood, pocketed the note, and walked out.

Ryder and Colton was waiting outside the building. Ryder was leaning against the car, his arms

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crossed, his face set in that rigid line he wore.

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“I need something,” I said before he could speak. “My exact birth time. And the hospital name

He answered without hesitation. “Vancouver General Hospital, September seventeenth. I don’t remember the exact time.”

Just then, Colton spoke up.”Speaking of that, I just remembered something. I checked Marsha’s travel records before. The last place she visited before disappearing was Vancouver General Hospital.”

That’s it, the hospital. If we could access the hospital archives and find the exact dates of Mom’s hospitalization and my birth, everything would finally make sense.

“I need to go to the hospital,” I said, standing.

Ryder stood with me. “I’ll drive.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You stay in the car. If Westbrook has people watching the hospital-and they probably do-seeing you walk through the front door is like lighting a flare.”

He opened his mouth to argue. I held up my hand and stopped him

“That’s the final decision.”

He stared at me for a long moment. Then his hand went to his jacket pocket. He pulled out a folding knife and held it out to me.

“If Marcus shows up,” he said, his voice low and flat, “don’t hesitate.”

I took the knife, and slipped it into my pocket and nodded.

Then I walked toward the hospital.

The Vancouver General archives were in the sub-basement-a narrow room with fluorescent lighting, metal shelving, and the smell of old paper and dust. The archivist-a tired man in his sixties who clearly didn’t want to be here-pointed me to the row where 2010 maternity files were stored.

I found my mother’s name.

Johnson Wilson. Admitted September 16. Delivered September 17.

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The file was thin-thinner than it should have been for a complicated delivery. Someone had already pulled pages from it. But the last page was still there, clipped to the inside back cover

And taped to it, and on it was my exact birth time: 2:23:05 a.m.

I think I know the password.

Back at the safe house, they were all waiting.

Ryder in the living room, pacing. Colton at the kitchen table with his laptop open. Ethan by the window, arms crossed, looking out at the street. Lily on the sofa, her phone in her hand, her expression tight.

I closed the door behind me and walked to the centre of the room.

“I guess I got the password,” I said. They all stopped. Every eye on me.

“But there was still a problem. Marcus and I each had only half the puzzle. Only the USB drive could prove whether I was right.”

I sat down on the arm of the sofa. “We need to get the USB from him.”

Silence.

Colton was the first to speak. “He’s careful. He won’t carry it loosely. He’ll have it on his person at all times. We can’t pickpocket him-he’ll have eyes everywhere.”

“Then we don’t steal it,” I said. My voice was quiet but everyone heard it. “We make him bring it out.”

Ryder frowned. “How?”

“I will contact him. Anonymously. I tell him I know something about the encryption system-that I can identify the version if I see the physical drive. That I can help him crack it.”

“He won’t trust a stranger,” Ryder said immediately.

“He doesn’t have to trust me,” I said. “I’ll tell him I was Everly’s personal assistant. Everly’s dead- he can’t verify or deny. Marcus is desperate enough to take the risk. He wants that drive decrypted more than he wants to stay hidden.”

Colton nodded slowly. “Even if he agrees, he won’t hand it over. He’ll bring it, show it, keep it in his hand the whole time.”

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“I don’t need him to hand it over,” I said. “I just need him to put it on a table. For ten seconds. Long enough for someone to swap it with a duplicate.”

Ryder’s eyes narrowed. “You want to do a switch.”

“Yes.”

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