"Several." Her voice is careful now. Measured. "CHOP was one of the primary sites. They had a pediatric oncology partnership with?—"
CHOP.
Children's Hospital of Philadelphia.
Where my daughter finished treatment just days ago.
Where she rang the bell in the oncology ward while my parents held her, and I listened through a phone pressed to my ear because I was doing the job that was supposed to keep her safe.
Lily.
Six years old. The voice on that phone call—I did it, Daddy. I rang the bell. I'm better now.
She's not better.
She's carrying something inside her that this woman put there.
My weapon comes up.
I don't remember drawing it. Don't remember crossing the distance. But suddenly I'm three feet from Julianna Strattonwith the Glock centered on her chest. My finger finds the trigger, and the only thought in my head is a very simple equation:
She poisoned my daughter.
She should die.
"Thorne." Ghost's voice. Sharp. Warning.
I don't hear him. Don't care.
"My daughter." The words are ice. "Six years old. Lily. She finished cancer treatment at CHOP. Experimental protocol. Immune support therapy."
Each word is a knife. I want them to cut.
"Is she infected?"
The room has frozen. Nobody's breathing.
Julianna's face has gone white. Not fear of the gun—something worse. Recognition. The dawning horror of someone who's just understood the full scope of what they've built.
"I don't know individual names." Her voice is barely steady. "There were thousands of patients across dozens of sites. I managed the funding structure, not the enrollment?—"
"But CHOP was funded through your architecture."
"Yes." The syllable drops after a long, heavy pause.
"The pediatric compassionate use protocol. Was it funded through your system?"
"Yes. CHOP was one of our primary distribution nodes. The pediatric program was?—"
"Then she's carrying it."
My finger tightens on the trigger.
"Thorne." Brass now. Somewhere behind me. Moving closer. "Brother. I know. I know what you're feeling. But she's the only one who can help us find them. She's the only one who knows where the money went."
"She poisoned my daughter."
"She might be the only one who can help us save your daughter."
