Chapter 4 - The Ghost File
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The black armored SUV pulled up outside a run-down, four-story brick apartment building in the city's warehouse district.
Inside her small studio, Marin was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, stitching the knife wound on her forearm with a curved suture needle. Her face was completely devoid of emotion as the nylon thread pulled through her skin.
A knock echoed through the thin front door. Two heavy, deliberate raps.
Marin didn't reach for a kitchen knife. She finished tying off the knot, snipped the thread with scissors, and walked to the door, pulling it open.
Elias Ferrante stood in the narrow hallway. He was six-foot-two, imposing, and carried the unmistakable aura of a man who owned everything his eyes touched. Two armed guards stood behind him on the landing.
"Miss Hollis," Elias said, his dark eyes scanning her pale face, resting briefly on the blood-stained bandage on her arm. "You left without collecting your overtime pay."
"The shift ends at seven," Marin said calmly, leaning against the doorframe. "Overtime requires prior authorization from the agency."
Elias stepped past her into the apartment without asking for permission. His sharp gaze took in the space in three seconds: no personal photos, no decorations, a single duffel bag packed neatly under the bed, and a tactical trauma kit open on the kitchen counter.
"You're a ghost," Elias said, turning to face her. "I had my investigators dig into your medical license history. The nursing school you attended in Chicago burned down six years ago. The records were digitalized, but your transcripts were added to the server four hours after the fire started."
Marin didn't flush or step back. "Fire destroys a lot of things, Mr. Ferrante."
"It creates ghosts," Elias corrected softly, taking a step toward her. "Last night, three men tried to murder my mother. You neutralized them in six minutes without discharging a firearm or waking the household."
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"I protected my patient," Marin said flatly. "It was my job."
"Your job is changing fluids and turning a sick woman in bed," Elias barked, his voice dropping into a dangerous key. "Who sent you into my house, Marin?"
