THE PATIENT IN ROOM 13
THE RECKONING
CHAPTER 29: THE FINAL WITNESS
Thursday, October 26th – 8:00 AM
The grand jury convened at 9:00 AM in the county courthouse, a gray stone building in the center of Ravenwood. Sloane had been subpoenaed to testify about her findings at Meridian Psychiatric Hospital — the room, the patients, the deaths, the cover-up. She had spent the previous night reviewing her notes, rereading her father’s journals, and preparing her testimony.
The voices in her head were quiet but alert. They had been restless since the threats began, sensing danger, watching for signs of trouble.
Sloane parked her car in the garage across from the courthouse. The officer assigned to protect her — a young woman named Officer Maya Holt — was waiting by the entrance.
“Dr. Vance. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.”
Holt walked with her to the courthouse doors.
The building was busy, filled with lawyers and defendants and families waiting for hearings. Sloane passed through the metal detector, showed her identification, and followed Holt to the third floor.
The grand jury room was on the end of the hall, a large room with a long table and rows of chairs. The jurors were already seated. They looked tired. This was their third week of hearing testimony about the hospital.
The prosecutor, a woman named District Attorney Rachel Webb, greeted Sloane at the door.
“Dr. Vance. Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for having me.”
“This will be a long day. Are you prepared?”
“I am.”
“Then let’s begin.”
Sloane sat in the witness chair.
The jurors studied her.
The prosecutor approached.
“Dr. Vance, can you state your name and occupation for the record?”
“Sloane Vance. Forensic psychologist. Formerly employed at Meridian Psychiatric Hospital.”
“How long did you work at Meridian?”
“Fifteen years.”
“During that time, did you become aware of any unusual patient deaths?”
“I did.”
“Can you describe them?”
Sloane took a breath.
“Over the past forty years, dozens of patients died on the third floor of Meridian Psychiatric Hospital. Many of those deaths were ruled suicides or accidents. But the circumstances were suspicious.”
“Suspicious how?”
“The patients who died had all spent time in Room 13 — a sealed room in the basement that was used for experimental treatment. The treatment involved confronting patients with forgotten memories. In many cases, the treatment made the patients worse.”
“Did any of the patients survive?”
“Some did. They are currently being treated at other facilities.”
“Dr. Vance, did you personally enter Room 13?”
“I did.”
“What did you find?”
Sloane paused.
“I found a room covered in writing. Thousands of words, carved into the plaster. The word ‘REMEMBER’ appeared most frequently.”
“Were there any other significant findings?”
“I found evidence that the hospital had been covering up the deaths for decades. Patient records had been altered. Family members had been told their loved ones were dead when they were still alive. Bodies had been stored in a cold storage room in the basement, unburied for years.”
The jurors exchanged glances.
The prosecutor continued.
“Dr. Vance, did you identify any of the bodies?”
“I did.”
“Can you tell us who they were?”
Sloane looked at the jurors.
“They were patients. Dozens of them. Some had been dead for forty years. Their families had never been notified.”
The prosecutor nodded.
“Thank you, Dr. Vance. No further questions.”
The defense attorney approached.
He was a tall man with silver hair and a sharp suit. His name was Arthur Crane — no relation to the lawyer who had visited Sloane’s office.
“Dr. Vance, you testified that you found evidence of a cover-up. But isn’t it true that you removed documents from the hospital without authorization?”
“I removed documents that were being destroyed.”
“Did you have permission to remove them?”
“No.”
“Did you have a warrant?”
“No.”
“So you stole those documents.”
“I preserved them.”
The attorney smiled.
“Dr. Vance, you also testified that you entered Room 13, a sealed area of the hospital. Did you have permission to enter?”
“I had a key.”
“Where did you get the key?”
“I found it in the room.”
“So you entered a sealed area without permission, using a key you found in that same area. Is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“Dr. Vance, did you also enter the cold storage room where the bodies were kept?”
“I did.”
“Did you have permission to enter?”
“No.”
“Did you notify anyone before entering?”
“I notified Dr. Marsh.”
“Dr. Marsh, who is currently under investigation for her role in the cover-up?”
“That is correct.”
The attorney stepped back.
“Dr. Vance, you have testified that the hospital covered up patient deaths for forty years. But isn’t it true that you also covered up evidence? That you removed documents, entered sealed areas, and failed to notify authorities in a timely manner?”
“I acted to preserve evidence that was being destroyed.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Sloane looked at the jurors.
“I did what I thought was right.”
The attorney nodded.
“No further questions.”
Sloane stepped down from the witness stand.
Her hands were shaking.
The prosecutor approached her.
“Thank you, Dr. Vance. You did well.”
“I feel like I was on trial.”
“You were. But the jury will see the truth.”
Sloane walked out of the courtroom.
Officer Holt was waiting.
“Are you okay?”
“I need some air.”
They walked to the stairwell.
The stairwell was empty.
Sloane leaned against the wall.
Her heart was pounding.
“You did well,” Marian said. “You told the truth.”
“The attorney tried to make me look like a criminal.”
“He was doing his job. He represents people who want to protect themselves.”
“They will not succeed.”
“No. They will not.”
Sloane pushed off from the wall.
She walked down the stairs.
The garage was dimly lit.
Officer Holt walked beside her, scanning the shadows.
“Your car is on level three,” Holt said.
“I remember.”
They reached the third level.
Sloane’s car was parked near the stairwell.
A figure stood beside it.
A man. Tall. Thin. Wearing a dark suit and a red tie.
“Dr. Vance,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“I’m the one who sent the threats.”
Holt drew her weapon.
“Step away from the car.”
The man did not move.
“I’m not here to hurt Dr. Vance. I’m here to warn her.”
“Warn me about what?”
“About the Watcher. It’s not gone. It’s not sleeping. It’s waiting.”
“I am the Keeper. The Watcher is with me.”
“The Watcher is with you. But it is also with others. Others who are not as strong as you. Others who are being consumed.”
Holt stepped forward.
“Step away from the car. Now.”
The man looked at Sloane.
“The children, Dr. Vance. The forgotten children. They are not all in the tree. Some of them are still out there. Still hungry. Still waiting.”
He turned.
He walked away.
Holt ran after him.
But he was gone.