Part 3: The Boy Who Knew Too Much
Three weeks after Anna returned to St. Catherine’s with flowers, everyone assumed the story was over.
The attacker was in jail.
The hospital had changed its emergency procedures.
Nurse Patricia Doyle was still under investigation.
And Anna Reed was healing.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
But some stories do not end when the bleeding stops.
Sometimes they begin there.
It started on a quiet Tuesday afternoon.
Rain tapped softly against the hospital windows while visitors moved through the corridors carrying coffee cups and bouquets.
Dr. Samuel Whitmore sat in his office reviewing patient reports when someone knocked gently on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Anna stepped inside.
She looked healthier now.
The bruises on her face had faded.
The stitches had been removed.
But something in her expression immediately caught his attention.
She looked frightened.
Not the terrified panic of the night she arrived.
Something colder.
Something deeper.
"Anna?"
She closed the door behind her.
"We have a problem."
Dr. Whitmore sat up straighter.
"What happened?"
Anna hesitated.
Then she placed a photograph on his desk.
"I found this in my mailbox this morning."
He picked it up.
His heartbeat slowed.
The picture showed Anna sleeping in her hospital room.
The photo had been taken through the window.
At night.
While she was recovering.
Someone had been watching her.
Dr. Whitmore's face darkened.
"Did the police see this?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
Anna swallowed.
"Because of the message on the back."
She turned the photo over.
Written in black marker were six words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAT NIGHT
For a long moment neither of them spoke.
Then Dr. Whitmore stood.
"Call Detective Harris."
An hour later, Detective Ryan Harris arrived.
He was the same officer who had helped arrest Anna's ex-boyfriend, Michael Crane.
After examining the photograph, Harris frowned.
"Michael is still locked up."
"Then who sent it?" Anna whispered.
The detective looked grim.
"That's what worries me."
By evening, police were reviewing surveillance footage around Anna's apartment.
Nothing.
No cameras had captured anyone approaching her mailbox.
No fingerprints appeared on the photograph.
No DNA.
It was as if the sender had planned everything perfectly.
And that terrified Harris more than if they had found evidence.
Because professionals left fewer mistakes.
That night Anna barely slept.
Every sound made her jump.
Every shadow seemed wrong.
Around 2 a.m., her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Her stomach tightened.
She answered.
Silence.
Then breathing.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Listening.
Waiting.
Anna's blood turned cold.
"Who is this?"
The breathing continued.
Then a voice whispered:
"You should have stayed dead."
The line disconnected.
By sunrise, police traced the call.
The result made no sense.
The phone had originated from inside St. Catherine's Hospital.
Detective Harris immediately ordered a review of internal phone records.
By noon, security teams were checking staff access logs.
Every employee was questioned.
Every visitor was reviewed.
Nothing.
No answers.
No suspects.
Only one fact remained.
Whoever was threatening Anna had access to the hospital.
That afternoon, Dr. Whitmore was walking through the pediatric wing when he noticed something unusual.
A young boy sat alone near the waiting area.
Maybe ten years old.
Dark hair.
Oversized hoodie.
No parents nearby.
No nurse attending him.
Nothing.
The boy stared directly at him.
As if waiting.
Dr. Whitmore approached.
"Are you lost?"
The boy shook his head.
"No."
"Where are your parents?"
The child looked toward the elevators.
"They're downstairs."
Something felt wrong immediately.
The boy leaned closer.
"I know who sent the picture."
Dr. Whitmore froze.
"What did you say?"
The boy glanced around nervously.
"I heard them talking."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"In the basement."
The hospital basement contained storage rooms, maintenance equipment, and old medical archives.
Very few people used it.
Especially children.
"Who were you listening to?" Whitmore asked.
The boy swallowed.
"I don't know their names."
"Then what did you hear?"
The child looked terrified.
"I heard someone say Anna Reed should have died."
Dr. Whitmore felt ice crawl through his veins.
Minutes later, Detective Harris arrived.
The boy introduced himself as Ethan Walker.
His mother was recovering from surgery upstairs.
Earlier that day, Ethan had wandered away while looking for a vending machine.
Instead, he accidentally entered a service elevator.
The elevator took him to the basement.
And that was where he heard voices.
Hidden behind storage shelves, he listened.
One voice belonged to a man.
The other belonged to a woman.
They talked about Anna.
About photographs.
About finishing what Michael Crane started.
"Did you see them?" Harris asked.
Ethan nodded.
"A little."
"Can you describe them?"
The boy hesitated.
Then his eyes widened.
"I remember one thing."
"What?"
"The woman had a nurse badge."
The room went silent.
Detective Harris exchanged a look with Dr. Whitmore.
A nurse.
Someone inside the hospital.
Someone with access.
Someone who knew Anna's room.
Someone who knew hospital procedures.
Someone who could move unnoticed.
Suddenly the list of suspects became much smaller.
That evening Harris ordered security footage from the basement.
Hours passed.
Nothing appeared.
Then, just before midnight, a technician found something.
A brief clip.
Only twelve seconds long.
A woman entering the restricted archive area.
Her face was partially hidden.
But her hospital badge was visible.
Harris zoomed in.
Everyone in the room stared at the screen.
The name became clear.
The detective slowly exhaled.
"No way."
Dr. Whitmore looked at him.
"What is it?"
Harris turned pale.
Because the name on the badge belonged to someone nobody expected.
Someone trusted.
Someone respected.
Someone who had personally helped save Anna's life.
And as the camera image sharpened, Dr. Whitmore felt his stomach drop.
Because the woman walking into the basement archive room was not Nurse Patricia Doyle.
It was Nurse Rachel Bennett.
The same nurse who had stood beside Anna's operating table.
The same nurse who had comforted her during recovery.
The same nurse who had visited her room almost every day.
And at that exact moment, while detectives stared at the footage in shock...
Rachel Bennett was upstairs.
May you like
Alone.
With Anna Reed.
