The Secret

Ryan's POV

The blade slipped from my shaking hands and clattered onto the clinic floor.

"Dr. Archer?" Eight-year-old Tommy Chen looked up at me with worried eyes. Blood still dripped from the deep cut on his knee. "Are you okay?"

I forced my hands to stop shaking and picked up a clean scalpel. "Sorry, Tommy. Just tired."

But I wasn't tired. I was afraid.

Through my office window, I could see the woman across the street unpacking boxes from her Honda. She moved like a cop - aware of everything around her, checking edges, scanning for threats. Even her dog looked like a police dog.

"This might sting a little," I told Tommy, starting to clean his wound. But my eyes kept moving to the window.

The woman had short dark hair and sharp green eyes that missed nothing. When she'd looked at me earlier, I'd felt like she could see straight through my carefully built lies. See the blood on my hands that no amount of cleaning could clean.

"How did you hurt yourself, Tommy?" I asked, trying to focus on my patient.

"I was riding my bike near the fish plant," Tommy said. "I saw some men putting boxes onto a truck. They yelled at me to get away, so I pedaled fast and crashed."

My hands froze. "What kind of boxes?"

"Big wooden ones. Heavy. It took three men to lift each one." Tommy cringed as I applied antiseptic. "One of the boxes was making noise. Like someone crying inside."

The antiseptic bottle slipped from my grip and broke on the floor. The sharp smell filled the air as clear liquid spread everywhere.

"Dr. Archer, you're really acting weird today," Tommy said.

I grabbed paper towels, my mind racing. If Tommy had seen what I thought he'd seen, he was in terrible danger. They killed people for less than that in this town.

"Tommy, listen to me very carefully," I said, kneeling beside him. "You can't tell anyone what you saw at the plant. Not your parents, not your friends. Nobody."

"Why not?"

"Because..." I tried to find words that wouldn't terrify an eight-year-old. "Because sometimes grown-ups do bad things, and if they know you saw them, they might hurt you."

Tommy's eyes went wide. "Really bad things?"

Before I could answer, the clinic door rang. Sheriff Marcus Daniels walked in, his uniform neatly pressed and his smile cold as winter. Behind him was his deputy, Jake Morrison - Betty's son, who'd sold his soul for a badge and a paycheck.

"Dr. Archer," Marcus said easily. "Jake here needs stitches. Cut himself shaving this morning."

I looked at Jake's face. The "shaving cut" was on his fingers, not his jaw. It looked like he'd hit someone. Or something.

"Of course," I said, my voice steady despite my beating heart. "Tommy, you're all fixed up. Run along home."

Tommy hopped off the examination table, but Marcus blocked his way to the door.

"Hold on there, son," the sheriff said, crouching to Tommy's level. "Heard you had an accident near the plant today. Hope you weren't somewhere you shouldn't be."

"I was just riding my bike," Tommy whispered.

"Good boy. You know, sometimes kids think they see things that aren't really there. Imagination can play tricks." Marcus's voice was friendly, but his eyes were deadly serious. "Best to keep imagined stories to yourself. Wouldn't want to worry your parents with silly tales."

Tommy nodded quickly and ran out of the building. Marcus watched him go, then turned back to me with that cold smile.

"Jake, let the doctor look at that cut while I make a phone call."

Marcus stepped outside, but I could see him through the window, talking on his phone while watching the new woman across the street.

"Sit down, Jake," I said quietly.

Jake held out his bloody fingers. "Doc, I need you to know something. That new lady over there? She's not just a private investigator."

My heart stopped. "What do you mean?"

"She's ex-LAPD. Ten years on the force. Worked homicide." Jake winced as I cleaned his cuts. "Marcus is worried she might ask too many questions."

"About what?"

Jake looked toward the door to make sure Marcus couldn't hear. "About the girls, Doc. About what really happens at the plant. " I'd known this day would come. Five years of staying quiet, five years of treating injuries I wasn't supposed to see, five years of watching young women disappear and pretending it was normal.

"Jake, you have to help me stop this," I whispered. "You know what your boss is doing is wrong."

"I can't," Jake said, fear written all over his face. "You don't understand what he's capable of. What he did to the last person who tried to expose him."

"What happened?" " David Chen. The real estate agent who had that space before. He was gathering information, asking questions about the missing girls." Jake's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Marcus found out. David's car went off the cliff road three weeks ago. They called it an accident. " The blood drained from my face. I'd treated David two days before he died. He'd come in scared, saying he'd found something horrible and needed help. I'd been too afraid to listen.

Now David was dead, and his evidence was spread across the new detective's office floor.

"The worst part?" Jake continued. "David had a daughter. She was going to visit him last weekend."

My hands started shaking again. "Where is she now?"

"That's just it, Doc. She never made it to town. Her bus ticket shows she arrived three days ago, but nobody's seen her since." Jake met my eyes. "Marcus has been asking questions about a girl meeting her description. Says she might be a 'problem' like her father."

The clinic door chimed again. Marcus walked back in, putting his phone into his pocket.

"Everything all right in here?" he asked.

"Just finishing up," I said, my voice somehow steady.

Marcus smiled. "Good. Jake, we have work to do tonight. Another load comes in at midnight."

After they left, I stood alone in my office, staring at the blood-stained bandages in the trash. David Chen's daughter was somewhere in this town, possibly being held at the plant with the other girls.

And the ex-cop across the street had no idea she was going into a trap that had already killed her predecessor.

I grabbed my medicine bag and headed for the door. I had to warn her. Had to tell her about David, about his daughter, about the package tonight.

But as I reached for the door handle, my phone buzzed with a text message.

"Good work keeping quiet today, Doctor. Your secret is safe as long as you remember your place. Don't make us tell you what happened to your last patient who tried to be a hero. Sarah Mitchell sends her thanks from the bottom of the bay."

The phone slipped from my numb fingers and crashed to the floor.

Sarah Mitchell. The girl I'd tried to save five years ago. The one Marcus had killed to teach me a lesson.

I looked across the street at Elena Santos, who was hanging a sign that read "Santos Private Investigations" in her window.

She had no idea that in twelve hours, she might be joining Sarah at the bottom of Moonfall Bay.