Aiyana Red Elk — Point of View
Time crept forward, though only barely. Dim light filled the clinic room as the nurses kept the overhead lamps low to soothe her. Aiyana rested half-upright against the pillows, her eyes wandering from the window to the blanket clutched in her hands. She wasn’t asleep. She wasn’t fully awake either. Just… floating.
Samantha sat nearby, writing notes quietly. Eliza stood by the door, whispering with a nurse. Aiyana swallowed. There was something she hadn’t said. Something she hadn’t remembered until now. A sound. It rose in her mind like something surfacing from deep water.
She blinked, breath catching. “Samantha…?”
Samantha looked up immediately. “I’m here.”
Aiyana’s fingers tightened on the blanket. “I… I remember something.”
###
Samantha Wolf-Iverson — Point of View
Samantha set her notebook aside and moved closer, careful not to crowd her. “Okay,” she whispered. “Take your time.”
Aiyana’s eyes unfocused, staring past Samantha at something only she could see. “It was… in the hallway,” she whispered. “Outside the South Room.”
Samantha nodded slowly. “What was?”
Aiyana swallowed hard. “A sound.”
###
Aiyana Red Elk — Point of View
She closed her eyes. It came back clearer now — not loud, not sharp, but constant. A rhythm. A pattern. “It was… clicking,” she whispered. “Like… metal on metal.”
Samantha’s voice stayed gentle. “Like keys?”
Aiyana shook her head. “No… slower. Not jangling. More like…” She lifted her hand weakly and tapped her finger against the bedrail. Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap‑tap. A pattern. A signal. Her breath trembled. “They did it when they walked by,” she said. “Every time. Like… they were checking something.”
Eliza stepped closer, her expression sharpening. “Aiyana, did the sound come from a person? Or from the wall?”
Aiyana hesitated. Then: “From the wall.”
###
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza exchanged a look with Samantha. A mechanical system. A locking mechanism. Or a coded alert. “Can you tell where on the wall?” Eliza asked gently.
Aiyana pointed weakly to her left. “Low. Near the floor.”
Eliza’s pulse quickened. Floor‑level mechanisms could mean:
- industrial doors
- magnetic locks
- pressure sensors
- or a monitoring system
Aiyana continued, voice thin. “And… after the clicking… then there was a light.”
Samantha leaned in. “A light?”
Aiyana nodded. “Under the door. A little strip. It turned red when they walked by.”
Eliza’s breath caught. A hallway alert system. Motion‑triggered. Or manually activated.
Aiyana whispered, “When it was red… we had to be quiet.”
###
Samantha Wolf-Iverson — Point of View
Samantha felt her chest tighten. “Who told you that?” she asked softly.
Aiyana’s eyes filled with tears. “The older girl,” she whispered. “She said… when the red light comes… don’t move. Don’t talk. Don’t cry.”
Samantha swallowed hard. “Do you remember her name?”
Aiyana shook her head. “She… she didn’t tell me. She said names were dangerous.”
Eliza closed her eyes briefly. A rule. A survival rule. Passed from one child to another.
Aiyana’s voice trembled. “But she had… a bracelet.”
Samantha’s breath caught. “What kind of bracelet?”
Aiyana lifted her hand, tracing a shape in the air. “Purple. With white beads. One was missing.”
Eliza froze. Evan had found that bracelet at RR‑2.
Aiyana whispered, “She said… she was in South Four.”
###
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza felt the room tilt. South Four. A second room. A second child. And the bracelet they found at RR‑2 wasn’t just evidence. It belonged to someone Aiyana knew. Someone who is still missing.
Eliza kept her voice steady. “Aiyana,” she said softly, “you’re helping us find her.”
Aiyana’s eyes filled with tears. “Please… find her,” she whispered. “She helped me.”
Eliza nodded, her voice firm. “We will.”