Page 19 of Silent Bones
He hated the thought, but it wormed in anyway, had Stephen snapped? Had he lured them there knowing those tensions would boil over?
He shifted in his seat and exhaled through his nose. “Don’t make assumptions,” he muttered to himself.
McKenzie glanced over. “You say something?”
Noah shook his head. “Nothing.”
The car hit a bend, and he finally opened the file, drawing out the photo again. He studied their faces now, not the kind of surface glance he’d given it in the house, but a slow read of each person.
Even in stillness, there were dynamics. Quiet stories between them.
Normalcy. Youth. A sense that time was endless.
6
The Adirondack Medical Center looked normal enough at night. From the outside, it was all sterile concrete and glass, unassuming, even forgettable. But Noah had always thought there was something off about hospitals in the morning. The way the sunlight didn’t quite make it past the windows. Like the building had no interest in pretending things got better here.
He parked close to the entrance, flashed his badge at security on the way in, and rode the elevator with McKenzie in silence. The descent to the basement brought with it a familiar shift of colder air, artificial light, and a faint hum he always heard more in his jaw than in his ears.
McKenzie sniffed and made a face. “I swear this place has its own brand of formaldehyde. Eau de corpse.”
Noah didn’t answer.
They stepped out into the hallway. Tile floors. Fluorescents overhead. Walls the color of wet gauze. The scent of bleach and ghosts hit like a slap, aggressive, clinging. Noah adjusted his coat without thinking. Always the same down here: cold, too quiet, too clean in all the wrong ways.
“You ever get used to this part?” McKenzie asked, rubbing his arms. “I feel like I’m walking into a morgue.”
“We are,” Noah said, pressing the buzzer by the steel door.
There was a delay. Then a loud click, and the door groaned open.
“Showtime,” McKenzie muttered.
Inside, Dr. Adelaide Chambers was already mid-stride. She emerged from a side room juggling a tablet and snapping on a pair of gloves with expert indifference. A takeout coffee cup sat behind her on a metal tray, likely hours old but still half-full. Her lab coat sleeves were pushed up, revealing a faded wrist tattoo and two mismatched bracelets that clicked as she moved.
Her hair, once pink and rebellious, was now a deep auburn pixie shag, sculpted chaos that looked like it had fought a losing battle with a comb. Tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose, giving her a sharper, more professorial edge, though nothing about her posture said she took herself too seriously.
“Well, look what the department dragged in,” she said, glancing at Noah and then narrowing her eyes at McKenzie. “You still chasing serial killers or just here to get my number again?”
McKenzie smirked. “You already gave me your number. I just keep misplacing it.”
Addie arched a brow. “Mm. Probably between your burner phone and your cholesterol meds.”
Noah cleared his throat. “We appreciate you making time, Addie.”
“For you? Always,” she said, waving them in. “Bodies are prepped.”
The room they entered was stainless steel and shadows. Wall coolers lined the back like lockers from another life. Everything hummed, machines, lights, even the tiles beneath their feet. Arolling table stood in the center, spotless except for a clipboard and a sealed evidence bag.
Addie pulled open one of the drawers and slid it out with the grace of routine. The steel tray groaned slightly before it locked into place.
“I miss when these tours came with coffee and donuts,” McKenzie said under his breath.
Addie ignored him. She peeled back the white sheet, exposing the top half of a young female’s body. Shoulders too narrow. Arms curled inwards, stiff with rigor mortis. Bruising along the collarbone, dirt caked under what was left of her fingernails.
Noah inhaled through his nose. Steady. Clinical. But something in his posture shifted, a barely perceptible bracing, like he was leaning into a wind that hadn’t arrived yet.
Addie moved to the foot of the table and turned her tablet to face them.
