He calls me Angel

66. Déjà vu

"Where is Eli?" Viviana asked, drawing my attention to the absence of Brandon's uncle.

Brandon exchanged a subtle look with someone in the room, before redirecting his attention back to her.

"He's not gonna make it. I briefed him on most of the points we're discussing today, so we can begin without him."

I found it strange how he was not included, considering the importance of today's meeting to their family, especially when I was present. But I didn't have time to dwell on it much longer, as he left no room for further discussion.

"So be it," she said, her hands clenched into fists over her lap as she began. "As you might have heard from Agent Alex Moore, Cyrus Inkles and his recent involvement with Hydra are what prompted me to gather you all here today."

So, she knew, was my first thought.

"You might have heard about my... arrangement with him, and I'm sure you all have questions—questions I will do my best to address. For the past couple of years, I've been rendering medical care for all the women in his venues and bars, in exchange for the safety of my family. A simple deal known to only a few and, of course, kept off the hospital's records.

"Since I inherited the hospital as the soul-owner after my parents died, the only thing my mother left in my name, it wasn't difficult to meet this demand. I was curious, as one can be, and looked deeper into it, only to understand the reason behind his peculiar demand: some of the people he brought, battered and bruised, were on missing-person's lists from all over the world. That put the last piece together—human trafficking. Women, men, anyone who fit into the portfolio of his sick clients."

She turned to look at Brandon, releasing a long exhale before she continued.

"I know what you're thinking, Brandon. I should've come forward sooner, but I couldn't. There was no way out for me. There never was."

Her eyes remained fixed on his, her voice wavering at the end. However, she wasn't done with her confession.

"With my husband gone and my underage children—whom he threatened to harm more than once—there was no way of stopping him. Even when you all found your place in this world, I was too far gone to do anything. I am as much an accomplice to all this as he is. The least I could do, was help the people he brought to Chicago, from God knows where, in any way I could—patch them up before they were dragged back into his hell.

"That changed a few weeks ago when a pregnant girl came to the hospital. That had never happened before."

She turned to me, eyes intent, indicating she was talking about Cynthia.

"I knew you connected the dots back then about the trafficked women. I also knew you were taking more night shifts, even though still in your first year, in case more came to the hospital."

My eyes widened in surprise; I knew she had people on the inside, but until a few days ago, I didn't think she cared enough about what I did, as long as I performed my job correctly. My brain went into overdrive, trying to identify who could be keeping tabs on me.

Was it Savi? Dr. Marshall? Or even, Dr. Fisher?

How many of my colleagues were aware of the hospital's darker side?

"Cynthia's pregnancy wasn't terminated, and that had never happened before. Cyrus didn't have a change of heart overnight. So, after Erika got them out, and Agent Moore flew them out of the state, I looked into it."

A sick feeling enveloped me, tearing through like an unforgiving whip. I sensed what Viviana was insinuating. Still, I hoped and prayed that my thoughts were wrong.