CHAPTER 30: SEARCH

In the shadowed hush of Devon expansive office, Sophie and Helena moved like ghosts on a mission of vengeance. The room was a testament to Devon’s status, a sprawling domain on the hospital’s executive floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, polished mahogany furniture that screamed luxury, and a sleek, modern desk cluttered with medical journals, encrypted laptops, and the faint scent of expensive cologne mingled with something sharper, like antiseptic masking secrets. Tucked in the corner was a private room, ostensibly for "consultations," but Sophie knew better, it was where he’d cornered her that fateful day, his hands insistent, his breath hot and demanding, forcing himself upon her in a violation that still burned like acid in her veins. Helena, her closest ally and best friend had walked in on him once with a wide eyed nurse, mid-act in the elevator , his promiscuity a poorly kept secret that fueled their shared loathing. Now, they were here to unearth the rot beneath his polished facade, to expose the predator who hid behind his white coat and charming grin.

Sophie’s heart pounded with a mix of fury and fear as she rifled through the desk drawers, her fingers trembling slightly on the cold metal handles. Papers scattered under her touch, patient files, expense reports, nothing incriminating yet, but she knew it was here somewhere. Evidence of his manipulations, his assaults, his web of favors and threats that kept the hospitals and other places he had worked on silent.

The man must have been doing this for years in other places he had been.

Helena, meanwhile, had ventured into the adjoining room, her flashlight app casting erratic beams across the dim space. She overturned cushions with deliberate force, the fabric whispering protests as she felt for hidden lumps, peeled back the edges of the rug, revealing nothing that could help the situation and even pried at the frames of his diplomas on the wall, Medical School, summa cum laude, the irony bitter on her tongue, searching for concealed compartments or safes. "This bastard thinks he’s untouchable," Helena muttered under her breath, her voice a low growl laced with the fire of righteous anger. "But everyone’s got a skeleton, or ten, hiding somewhere. And we’re going to drag his out kicking and screaming."

Sophie paused mid-search, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, her eyes darting nervously to the heavy oak door. The conference room meeting Devon was attending, pitching his so-called revolutionary protocols could end any minute, and the thought of him bursting in, that smug grin twisting into something feral, sent a chill racing down her spine like ice water. But hatred propelled her forward, a defiant flame against the fear, she flipped through a stack of USB drives she’d discovered in a locked drawer she’d jimmied open with a hairpin and sheer willpower. Her mind flashed back unbidden to that night, his weight pinning her against the desk, his whispered threats slithering into her ear like venom. "Speak out, and I’ll ruin you. Your career, your reputation gone." The memory ignited fresh fury, and she shoved the drives into her pocket, vowing silently that today, the tables would turn.

"Helena," she called softly, her voice tight and edged with urgency, "we need to hurry. If he walks in on us... God, I can’t even think about it."

Helena emerged from the adjoining room, her dark hair disheveled and falling in wild strands across her face, a determined glint sparking in her hazel eyes like embers ready to ignite. She glanced at her smartwatch, the screen’s blue glow illuminating her furrowed brow and highlighting the faint scar on her cheek from a childhood accident, a reminder of her own battles fought and won. "The meeting’s probably wrapping up soon. I can feel it in my gut. Sophie, go stand by the door. Keep watch. If you hear footsteps, give me a signal two knocks on the wall or something."

Sophie straightened abruptly, indignation flaring in her chest like a sudden blaze, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and protectiveness. "What? No way. I’m not leaving you in here alone to play hero. We do this together, Helena. What if he comes back and you’re still digging through this place ? I won’t just stand by and let you—"

"Soph," Helena interrupted, stepping closer in one fluid motion, her hands gripping Sophie’s shoulders with a firmness that brooked no argument, grounding her in the moment. Her eyes, usually so analytical and cool behind her glasses, now burned with the same visceral hatred that mirrored Sophie’s own, a shared fire forged in the crucible of injustice. "I get it. Believe me, I hate him as much as you do, for what he did to you, for the way he struts around like he owns everyone and everything in this godforsaken place. The nurses he’s toyed with, the careers he’s derailed... it makes my blood boil. But we can’t both get caught. You’re faster on your feet, you can stall if needed. Just... trust me on this. We need this evidence, and splitting up gives us a better shot at walking out with something real."

Sophie hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line of resistance, the protest dying on her tongue as logic warred with her protective instincts. She searched Helena’s face, seeing the unyielding resolve there, the quiet strength that had pulled her through her own dark times. Finally, she nodded, a reluctant sigh escaping her like steam from a pressure valve. "Fine. But if anything feels off, even a whisper of trouble, we bolt. No heroics, no last-minute grabs. Promise me."

"Deal," Helena replied with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but carried a spark of camaraderie. She squeezed Sophie’s shoulder once more, a silent vow of solidarity, before turning back to her search with renewed vigor, disappearing into the adjoining room’s shadows.