Page 65 of Lost Echoes
Beside Kenzi, Dr. Hanson looks nothing like the careful therapist I’d imagined. Her hair is pulled back, and she wears plain clothes with no makeup. She’s holding a thin leather folio like it’s a weapon.
Luke lingers at the edge of the circle, posture loose but eyes hard. His cover story of quitting the operation is still fresh, but tonight he’s back in, off the grid. In disguise with a ball cap, a dark coat, and sunglasses.
Florencia breaks the silence first. “We’ve been circling the same enemy for years. Separate files, separate voices. Tonight we stop circling. It’s all coming to a head.”
“Agreed.” Dr. Hanson places the folio on the ground between them then opens it. Inside are pages of neatly organized notes, printouts, and photographs. “These are my records. North Ridge, Radley Hospital, Willow Glen. Transfers, payments, patient logs, supposed grants. Not enough for a full case yet, but enough to establish a network.”
Florencia slides a USB drive across the floor. “My evidence. Survivor testimonies, anonymous leaks, financials from shell corporations. It’s incomplete, but it fills some of your gaps. And vice versa.”
The two women exchange a look of shared respect and relief.
Kenzi lifts her head. Her voice is hoarse but steady. “Then what’s the plan?”
Dr. Hanson’s gaze meet hers. “Dr. Radley is careful, but he’s also proud. He’ll be at Willow Glen in ten days for what they’re calling a ‘live rehearsal.’ He likes to oversee the ‘performances’ personally. That’s our window.”
Luke steps into the circle, crouching down. “We can get in. I still have credentials and backdoors that haven’t been burned yet. But once we’re inside, we’re on our own.”
Billa swallows hard. “What happens inside?”
“Two things,” Dr. Hanson says. “One, we extract as many children and survivors as we can. Two, we confront him and capture everything—audio, video, documents—enough to end the entire operation. But it has to be airtight. No vigilante theatrics, no gaps he can exploit.”
Florencia leans forward. “I can handle the media drop. Coordinated leaks, timed releases. Once we have evidence, it’ll be everywhere before they can suppress it.”
Kenzi’s fingers twitch in her lap. “And if he sees me? If I remember more?”
“He needs to see you,” Dr. Hanson says gently. “You’re the keystone. Your testimony on camera, your memory of the programming—that’s what breaks his narrative. We’ll get others, of course, but yours will be first. The one that begins the takedown.”
The room goes still. We all look at Kenzi.
She looks at me. “I’m not that little girl anymore. I’ll do it. I want him to know I remember.”
Billa squeezes her hand. “We’ll be there. All of us can face him alongside you. He hurt so many people, and he needs to face that.”
“He will,” Florencia says. “In court, we’ll all have our day. But for this to work, we need one person with a powerful story.”
Billa sits up straighter. “I’m more than willing to be backup if necessary.”
“So am I.” Florencia nods.
Luke exhales. “Then we plan this like a military op. Entry, extraction, evidence. Roles for everyone. Redundancies. And a way out if it goes bad.”
Florencia flips open her notebook. “Then let’s start.”
One by one, we lean in, the lantern light catching our faces. It feels like sitting at the edge of a stage before the curtain rises.
This time, though, we’re writing the script. We’ll be the directors.
The lanterns flicker in a way that makes me think they might not last longer. They’re throwing our faces into shifting light like they sense the tension. Nobody’s touching their notes now. It’s not about the files spread on the floor. It’s about us sitting in a circle like survivors of a storm planning how to end it.
Florencia leans forward, her elbows on her knees, eyes bright. “We’ve all seen fragments. Heard whispers. But if we move independently, we stay weak. Together, we can make it undeniable. What do you think, Dr. Hanson?”
“Call me Sofia. We’re all equals.” Everyone nods in agreement before she continues. “We build a record. Survivor accounts aligned with financial trails. Objects that match across facilities. They can’t dismiss all of it as coincidence.”
The two of them look at each other, and I swear I see a spark of recognition, like two veterans realizing they fought the same war on different fronts.
Florencia speaks first. “You said you’ve traced funds back to shell grants?”
“Yes,” Sofia replies. “But the trail stalled. With your testimonies, though, and with the files Phoenix started…” She gestures toward the USB drive. “We might finally have enough to show the world the truth.”
