Three nurses vanished during their late night shift at the hospital, leaving their mothers and the entire staff traumatized and desperate for answers.

But 6 months later, a sewer maintenance worker finds something shocking lodged inside a drainage pipe.

A discovery that would change everything and reveal the horrifying truth behind their disappearance.

The morning light filtered through the curtains of Marcia Langston’s kitchen as she paced back and forth, her cell phone pressed against her ear.

The steam from her untouched coffee swirled upward in the still air of her Milh Haven home.

It had been exactly 6 months since her daughter Freya disappeared without a trace along with her two best friends, Kiara Mendes and Cali Huang.

I still can’t believe we’re dealing with a water problem on top of everything else.

Marsha sighed into the phone.

My shower this morning was just brown sludge.

Same here, replied Isabel Mendes, her voice tired from months of worry.

The whole neighborhood’s affected.

Liha had to cancel her morning appointments at the clinic because they can’t sterilize equipment properly.

Dr.Liwa Hang, the third mother on their three-way call, spoke up.

The hospital administrator called me at 4:00 a.m.

about it.

Something about a major blockage in the municipal system.

Public works has been working on it since last night.

The three women had formed an unbreakable bond since their daughters vanished.

Before the disappearance, they had been casual acquaintances through their daughter’s friendship, but grief and uncertainty had forged them into a support system that none of them could now imagine living without.

Their children, the three young nurses, had been inseparable since they’d all gotten jobs at Meadow Ridge General Hospital after nursing school.

Freya had become a licensed nurse in the dermatology and plastic surgery department.

Kiara worked in pediatrics and Cali had found her calling in the bustling emergency room.

Different departments, different schedules, but they always made time for each other.

Detective Ror promised he’d call if there was anything new, Leewa reminded them.

The police haven’t stopped looking.

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Marsha’s phone buzzed with an incoming call.

She pulled the device from her ear and checked the screen.

Detective Vincent Ror,” she read aloud, her heart immediately racing.

“I need to take this.

Hold on.

” She quickly switched calls, her fingers trembling.

“Detective, is there news?” “Mrs.Langston?” The detective’s deep voice came through the line, sounding tense.

“There’s been a significant development in the case.

It’s connected to the water problem affecting your neighborhood.

Marsha’s knees weakened and she gripped the edge of her kitchen counter for support.

What is it? Have you found them? I can’t explain over the phone.

Detective Ror replied.

I need you to come to the scene.

Can you bring the others? Mrs. Mendes and Dr.Hang.

It might be connected to their children as well.

I’m on the phone with them right now.

Marsha said, her voice rising in pitch.

We’ll come immediately.

Where are you? We’re at the industrial park, specifically the sewer maintenance site in Chandler Creek District, he said.

I’ll text you the exact location.

Please come as soon as you can.

After the detective hung up, Marsha quickly switched back to the call with her friends.

“That was Detective Ror,” she announced, her voice trembling.

“He says there’s a significant update with the case, and it’s connected to the water problem.

He wants us to meet him at the Chandler Creek Industrial Park at the sewer maintenance site.

“The sewer?” Isabelle repeated, confusion evident in her voice.

“What could that possibly have to do with our daughters?” “I don’t know,” Marcia replied, already grabbing her car keys from the hook by the door.

“But he sounded urgent.

He’s sending the exact location to my phone.

” “I’m leaving now,” Liha said decisively.

I’ll meet you both there.

The call ended and Marca rushed out to her car, her mind racing with possibilities.

The morning air was cool against her skin as she slid into the driver’s seat.

Her phone dinged with a text message from Detective Ror containing a map pin.

She quickly shared it to Isabelle and Lihoa, then entered it into her GPS and pulled out of her driveway.

The 20inut drive to the industrial park seemed to take hours.

Marsha’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as she navigated through Mil Haven’s morning traffic.

When she finally arrived at the location, she saw several police vehicles and a public works truck parked around what looked like an excavation site.

Yellow crime scene tape cordined off a large area where workers in coveralls were gathered around a large pipe that had been unearthed from the ground.

As Marca parked and stepped out of her car, she spotted Isabelle pulling in beside her.

They exchanged a worried glance before walking together toward the scene.

Lihoa arrived moments later, joining them at the edge of the taped-off area.

Detective Vincent Roric, a tall man with graying temples and perpetually tired eyes, spotted them and motioned them over.

He lifted the tape for them to duck under.

Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said grimly.

“There’s something you need to see.

” He led them closer to where several officers were photographing items laid out on the muddy ground.

As they approached, Marsha’s breath caught in her throat.

Spread out on the ground were three sets of nurse scrubs, one pink, one blue, and one green, along with pairs of white nursing shoes.

They were caked with mud and stained with what looked disturbingly like blood, but they were unmistakably the type worn by hospital staff.

“Oh my god,” Isabelle whispered, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Detective Ror gestured to a sewer worker standing nearby.

” “Mr.Jensen here was investigating the cause of the water backup that’s been affecting your neighborhood since last night.

When his team located the blockage and began clearing it, they found these.

The worker, a middle-aged man in mud splattered coveralls, nodded solemnly.

Never seen anything like it in 20 years on the job.

The uniforms were all bundled up tight with surgical tape and steel wire made into a ball that got wedged right in the main junction pipe.

Caused a massive backup all the way to the hospital district.

Detective Ror turned to the three mothers.

We need you to tell us if you recognize these items.

Could they belong to your daughters? Marca stepped forward first, her legs unsteady.

She approached the tarp, kneeling carefully beside the pink scrubs.

The size looked right, and there was a small pin on the collar, a silver dermatology symbol that Freya always wore.

“This is Freya’s,” she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper.

She always wore pink scrubs in dermatology.

And these are her shoes.

Isabelle moved to the blue set.

Kiara’s are blue.

Pediatric nurses wear blue at Meadow Ridge.

Her fingers hovered over the fabric, not touching but identifying.

There’s the butterfly patch she sewed on the pocket.

It’s hers.

Lihoa with the clinical detachment that sometimes came with her medical training examined the green uniform.

ER personnel wear green.

This is Callie’s size and these are definitely her shoes.

She had the soles with rubber grips added because of the slippery floors in the emergency department.

Detective Roric nodded to a forensic technician who was setting up equipment under a nearby tent.

We’re going to conduct preliminary DNA testing right here.

If you could wait for a few minutes, we’ll have initial confirmation.

The mothers were led to a police vehicle where they could sit while the forensic team worked.

The weight was excruciating with each woman lost in her own thoughts.

Marsha stared at the excavation site, watching as more officers photographed the pipe and the surrounding area.

After what seemed like an eternity, Detective Ror approached them again.

His expression told them everything before he spoke.

The preliminary tests confirm it.

DNA from all three uniforms matched the samples you provided when your daughters went missing,” he said quietly.

“Given the condition of the fabric and how little the colors have faded, we don’t believe they’ve been in the sewer system for the full 6 months.

This is recent evidence.

” “What does that mean?” Liwa asked, her medical mind already calculating possibilities.

It means Detective Ror said that someone deliberately disposed of these uniforms recently.

The way they were bundled with wire suggests they wanted them to cause a blockage or at least make them heavy enough to sink and stay hidden.

This wasn’t an accident.

Are our daughters? Isabelle couldn’t finish the question.

We don’t have any evidence of that.

The detective assured her quickly.

What we do have is our first real lead in months.

someone had these uniforms and they tried to dispose of them in a way that suggests they’re trying to hide evidence or maybe wanted the evidence to be found, that someone might still have information about what happened to Freya, Kiara, and Callie.

Marsha looked back at the muddy uniforms, her daughter’s pink scrubs now being carefully placed in an evidence bag.

So, what happens now? Now, Detective Rooric said with determination, “We follow this lead, and since the evidence was discarded recently, we have a much better chance of tracking whoever did this.

” As the forensic team continued processing the evidence, a silver BMW pulled up to the edge of the scene.

Marsha watched as a man in his early 40s stepped out, his posture rigid with concern, as he surveyed the police activity.

He wore expensive casual clothes under a light jacket, looking as though he’d dressed in a hurry.

“Dr.Velman,” Detective Ror called out, recognizing the newcomer.

Marsha immediately recognized him, too.

“Doctor Nathan Velman, the dermatologist and plastic surgeon who had supervised Freya at the hospital.

He had attended the first few search meetings after the girls disappeared, but had gradually stopped coming as the weeks turned into months.

The doctor approached, offering a firm handshake to the detective.

I just finished my night shift and was driving home when I noticed all the commotion, he explained, running a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair.

Is there some kind of accident? I saw the public works truck and got concerned.

Detective Ror briefly explained the situation, gesturing toward the evidence collection area.

We’ve recovered what appears to be the missing nurse’s uniforms from a sewer pipe blockage.

It’s the first significant evidence we’ve found in months.

Dr.Velman’s eyebrows rose and he glanced toward the three mothers with a sympathetic expression.

I heard about the water issues at the hospital last night.

The surgeries were nearly canceled because of it.

His gaze settled on the evidence bags being loaded into a police van.

Those are their uniforms.

Yes, Marsha confirmed, watching his reaction carefully.

Freya’s pink ones from your department.

Something flickered across the doctor’s face.

Concerned perhaps, or maybe something deeper.

Nurse Freya was exceptional, he said quietly.

Best assistant I ever had in plastic surgery.

Her attention to detail was unmatched.

He turned back to Detective Ror.

What happens now? Does this change the investigation? With this evidence, we’re upgrading from a missing person’s case to a potential criminal investigation, the detective explained.

We’ll be reviewing CCTV footage from businesses near the sewer access points and interviewing hospital staff again.

Dr.Velman nodded thoughtfully.

That seems like the logical approach, though I personally only work night shifts at Metaridge now.

He glanced at his watch.

During the day, I run my own private practice.

I actually just finished my night shift and have patients waiting this afternoon.

Detective Ror pulled out a small notebook.

We’d like to speak with you again as part of our follow-up interviews.

Would you be available at the hospital during your shift or should we schedule something at your private practice? Either works, doctor, Velman said, reaching into his pocket for a business card.

Here’s my clinic information.

Perhaps we could arrange a separate time.

My schedule is quite packed with patients.

As they talked, a news van pulled up to the scene and reporters began unloading equipment.

Dr.Velman’s demeanor suddenly changed, his shoulders tensed, and he began glancing repeatedly at his watch.

“I should really be going,” he said, taking a step back.

“I need to get some rest before my afternoon appointments.

Please keep me updated on any developments.

I’ve missed Freya’s assistance greatly.

” Detective Ror thanked him for stopping by and turned to greet the approaching media team.

Dr.Velman quickly retreated toward his car, adjusting his jacket as he walked.

Marsha noticed something odd about his behavior.

The sudden urgency to leave when the media arrived.

While Leewa and Isabelle stayed to prepare for the inevitable interviews, Marsha found herself hurrying after the doctor.

“Dr.Velman, wait,” she called, catching up to him at the edge of the parking area.

He turned, surprise evident on his face.

“Mrs.Langston, is there something else? We haven’t spoken in months, she said, studying his face.

How have you been? Busy, he replied, his hand resting on his car door.

Opening a private practice has been demanding, but rewarding.

I wish Freya were here.

We discussed my plans many times.

She was excited about potentially joining me once I got established.

A sad smile touched his lips.

No other nurse has her expertise in posttop care for facial procedures.

I didn’t know you had opened your own clinic, Marcia said.

Congratulations.

Thank you, he replied, seeming to relax slightly.

It’s always been my vision to have my own consultation space.

Most surgeries still happen at the hospital, of course.

I don’t have all the necessary equipment at my clinic yet.

Before Marsha could respond, Isabelle and Liha approached, having evidently decided to avoid the media after all.

“Dr.Velman,” Leewa said with a professional nod.

“I’ve actually made an appointment at your clinic this afternoon.

I have a patient who might need plastic surgery, and I wanted to discuss the case with you.

” “Ah, doctor hang.

” “Yes,” he said, recognition flickering in his eyes.

I have you in my schedule.

2:00, correct? That’s right, she confirmed.

The doctor maintained a polite smile, but Marca noticed how his fingers tapped restlessly against his car door.

I apologize, but I really must go.

It was a long night, and I need to rest before continuing work this afternoon.

He nodded to them collectively.

I’ll see you this afternoon, Doctor Hang.

As he drove away, Marca turned to Lihoa.

Where exactly is his new clinic? Lihoa looked surprised by the question.

It’s on Maple Avenue near the main intersection with Oak Street.

It opened the same month our daughters disappeared.

I’m surprised you didn’t know.

Marca shook her head slowly.

With everything that’s happened, I stopped noticing anything outside this nightmare.

She paused, thinking about the doctor’s behavior.

Did he seem strange to you just now? He seemed tired, Isabelle offered.

Night shifts are brutal.

I remember when Kiara was doing her night rotation in the NICU.

She was like a zombie.

Maybe, Marca murmured, not entirely convinced.

A reporter approached them, microphone in hand, and Marca reluctantly agreed to a brief interview.

She spoke about their continued hope of finding the girls and her belief that whoever had disposed of the uniforms would eventually be caught.

After the interviews, Detective Ror gathered the three mothers again.

The forensic team will continue processing the evidence.

I’ll update you as soon as we have more concrete information from the lab and the sewer experts.

We’re going to find out what happened to your daughters and who dumped these uniforms.

With heavy hearts, but a renewed sense of hope, the three women returned to their respective cars, each processing the morning’s shocking developments in their own way.

Marsha drove slowly through the familiar streets of Mil Haven, her mind replaying the morning’s events.

The image of Freya’s mudstained pink scrubs kept flashing before her eyes.

Those uniforms had been a source of such pride for her daughter, the tangible symbol of her hard work through nursing school and her achievement in landing a position at Metaridge General.

As she approached a traffic light at the main intersection, something caught her eye.

On the corner stood a modern-looking building with a tasteful sign that readman Aesthetic Medicine.

The parking lot was empty except for a single silver BMW.

Dr.Velman’s car.

He said he was going home to rest, Marca murmured to herself, slowing her car as the light turned red.

Through the building’s large front windows, despite the darkened interior, she could make out silhouettes.

Dr.Velman appeared to be engaged in an intense conversation with another man.

The doctor’s body language was agitated.

He was gesturing emphatically, at one point, reaching toward the other man’s face.

The stranger violently swatted the doctor’s hand away, his posture aggressive.

Marsha watched, transfixed by the confrontation playing out like a silent movie through the clinic’s windows.

Whatever they were discussing, it was clearly making Dr.

Velman upset.

A sudden blaring horn from behind made her jump in her seat.

Glancing up, she realized the light had turned green, and the driver behind her was impatiently demanding she move.

Flustered, Marca pressed the gas pedal and continued through the intersection, her eyes darting to the rear view mirror as the clinic disappeared from view.

“What was that about?” she wondered aloud, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

The doctor had seemed perfectly composed at the crime scene, if a bit evasive.

What could have transpired in the short time since to cause such an intense confrontation? Marsha drove one more block before making a sudden decision.

At the next chance, she performed a cautious U-turn and began heading back toward the clinic.

Logic told her it wasn’t her concern, but she couldn’t shake the urge to ensure the doctor was safe and unharmed.

And after 6 months of helplessness in the search for her daughter, any anomaly seemed worth investigating.

As she approached the clinic again, she was surprised to see both doctors.

Velman’s BMW and a motorcycle she hadn’t noticed before pulling out of the parking lot.

The motorcycle, a sleek black sports model, pulled ahead quickly while the doctor’s car followed at a more sedate pace.

“At least he’s okay,” Marca muttered, relieved that the confrontation hadn’t escalated to physical violence.

Still, as she continued on her usual route home, coincidentally the same direction the two vehicles had taken, curiosity tugged at her, urging her to keep an eye on where they were headed.

She remembered that doctor lived in an upscale residential neighborhood not far from this area.

Years ago, when Freya had first started working in his department, there had been a celebration at his home after a particularly challenging surgery had gone well.

Marsha had dropped Freya off at the house, a modern architectural showpiece with expansive windows and a perfectly manicured lawn.

She recalled picking Freya up later that evening and accidentally witnessing a moment between her daughter and the doctor.

He had winked playfully at Freya, causing her to blush.

For weeks afterward, Freya had seemed infatuated, though she’d refused to discuss it with her mother.

Eventually, whatever it was had seemed to pass, and Freya had returned to her usual self.

Now, as Marsha followed at a discrete distance, she noticed that Dr.

Velman didn’t take the turn toward his neighborhood.

Instead, he continued straight, eventually pulling into the parking lot of Medical Supply Pro, a store catering to health care professionals.

The motorcycle had gone ahead, turning onto a smaller side street that Marcia knew led to the outskirts of town.

There was an old car wash on that street, but the bike had zoomed past it without stopping.

Marsha slowed her car, staring down the side street.

What business would someone have out there? The area was largely undeveloped with only a few scattered buildings that had seen better days.

This is ridiculous, she told herself firmly, gripping the steering wheel.

I’m not a detective or a spy.

I’m just a worried mother who’s starting to see connections where there probably aren’t any.

With a deep breath, she continued on her way home, determined to get some rest before discussing the morning’s discoveries with Isabelle and Liha later.

As she drove, however, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Dr.

Velman wasn’t being entirely truthful about something.

The route home took her past the hospital where Freya had worked.

Meadow Ridge General stood tall and imposing against the midday sky, its windows reflecting the sunlight.

Somewhere in that building, her daughter had spent countless hours caring for patients, forming friendships with Kiara and Cali, and working alongside Dr.

Velman.

Had something happened there that led to their disappearance? Marca had asked herself that question countless times over the past 6 months.

Today was the first time they’d found any significant clue, and it had been literally dredged up from the sewers beneath the town.

As she finally pulled into her driveway, Marca felt the emotional weight of the morning settling over her.

The discovery of the uniforms brought both hope and dread.

Hope that they might finally learn what happened, and dread about what that truth might be.

The familiar scent of coffee filled Marsha’s kitchen as she waited for the pot to finish brewing.

After the morning’s emotional roller coaster, she needed the caffeine to clear her head.

She poured herself a steaming mug and settled at her computer, opening her messenger app, hoping to find some communication from Isabelle or Liha, but they were likely as emotionally drained as she was and taking time to process everything.

Marsha switched to her email, hoping for any updates from Detective Ror.

She refreshed the page and this time a new message popped up from him.

Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly clicked it open.

Mrs.Langston, the email began.

I wanted to update you on a significant development.

Our forensic team found partial fingerprints on the steel wire used to bundle the nurse’s scrubs.

We’ve run them through our database and identified a match.

Marcus Deaks, a known gang member with a prior arrest for armed robbery at a convenience store three years ago.

There are currently multiple arrest warrants issued for him.

We’re treating him as our primary suspect and will be attempting to locate him at his last known address.

I’ll keep you informed of any further developments.

Marsha read the email twice, her coffee forgotten as she processed this new information.

A name.

Finally, a name connected to her daughter’s disappearance.

Curious, she opened her web browser and searched for Marcus Deak’s Milh Haven.

The search returned several results, including a news article about the convenience store robbery.

She clicked on it and found a mug shot of a man in his 30s with extensive tattoos covering his face and neck.

His eyes were hard, his expression defiant as he stared into the camera.

She studied the image carefully, trying to recall if she’d ever seen this man before.

Could this be the person who was arguing with Dr.

Velman earlier? She hadn’t gotten a clear look at the man’s face through the clinic windows, and she certainly hadn’t noticed any distinctive tattoos.

Besides, it seemed highly unlikely that someone like Dr.

Velman would associate with a known criminal.

“It couldn’t be the same person,” she murmured to herself.

There’s no way.

Marsha reached for her phone and dialed Isabelle’s number.

After three rings, her friend answered.

“Did you get the email from Detective Ror?” Marsha asked without preamble.

“Yes,” Isabelle replied, her voice tense.

This Marcus Deaks person.

“I’ve been thinking about something Kiara told me before she disappeared.

” “What’s that?” Marca asked, sitting up straighter.

In the last few days before she vanished, Kiara mentioned feeling like someone was following her.

She said she caught glimpses of a man with tattoos several times near the hospital and around her apartment building.

Isabelle’s voice trembled slightly.

That’s why she started staying at Callie’s place.

She felt safer there.

Marsha frowned, setting her mug down on the desk.

Freya never mentioned anything like that to me.

Did you tell Detective Ror about this? Yes.

Right after the girls disappeared, the police thought it might be significant, but without any evidence or clear description, there wasn’t much they could do.

“Did Kiara ever say where exactly she saw this man?” Marcia asked, her mind racing.

“There was a pause on the line as Isabelle seemed to be recalling details.

” “I remember her mentioning Pine Street near that old car wash.

She said she saw him there a couple of times when she was driving to work.

” Marsha’s breath caught in her throat.

The old car wash was on the same street where the motorcyclist had turned earlier, the one who had been arguing with Dr.

Velman.

“Isabelle, I saw something strange today,” Marcia began and then recounted her observations of Dr.

Velman at his clinic and the man on the motorcycle.

“The street with the car wash is the same one you just mentioned.

” “You think there’s a connection?” Isabelle asked, sounding skeptical.

Dr.Velman is a respected surgeon.

Why would he be involved with someone like Marcus Deaks? I don’t know, Marcia admitted.

Maybe it’s nothing.

But the timing feels off, doesn’t it? The uniforms turn up in the sewer this morning and then Dr.

Velman suddenly reappears, only to be caught in a heated argument at his clinic after saying he was going home to rest.

Maybe we should tell Detective Ror about what you saw, Isabelle suggested.

I will, but I want to be sure before I start making accusations.

Marsha hesitated, then continued.

By the way, did you know that Lihwa has an appointment with Dr.

Velman this afternoon at his clinic? Yes, she mentioned it.

Something about a patient consultation.

I think I might go with her, Marca decided, just to see the clinic for myself.

You’re starting to sound a bit paranoid,” Isabelle said gently.

“Dr.Velman worked with Freya for years.

He attended the search meetings at the beginning.

Why would he suddenly be a suspect?” “I’m not saying he is,” Marcia defended.

“But something feels off.

Has felt off since this morning when he showed up at the industrial park.

” There was a long pause before Isabelle spoke again.

I’ll trust your instincts, Marca.

You’ve always been more perceptive than me.

Just be careful not to see connections that aren’t there just because we’re desperate for answers.

I know, Marsha sighed.

Maybe I am seeing things that aren’t there.

But after 6 months of nothing, I can’t ignore even the slightest possibility.

I understand, Isabelle said softly.

Let me know what you find out.

I think I’ll stay home and rest today.

This morning took a lot out of me.

After ending the call, Marca dialed Lihwa next.

When her friend answered, Marca quickly filled her in on the email from Detective Ror and her conversation with Isabelle.

“A man with tattoos,” Liha amused.

Callie never mentioned anyone following her, but she wouldn’t have wanted to worry me.

She was always so independent.

Lihwa about your appointment with Dr.

Velman this afternoon.

Would you mind if I came with you? Marca asked.

Of course not, Liwa replied.

To be honest, I’m not sure I feel up to driving after this morning.

Maybe we could go together.

I’ll wait in the lobby while you have your appointment and then we can talk about what happened today.

Marsha said.

And Liewa, did you think Doctor Velman seemed strange this morning? at the scene.

Lihua paused before answering.

Doctors are bound by strong ethics and vows, Marsha.

Someone with Dr.Velman’s reputation wouldn’t risk his career doing something illegal or dangerous.

He was probably just tired from his night shift, and the man you saw might have been a difficult patient.

It happens sometimes.

You’re probably right, Marca conceded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced.

What time is your appointment? I’ll pick you up.

2:00.

And Marsha, try not to worry too much.

Detective Ror has a solid lead now.

Let him do his job.

After hanging up, Marca sat back in her chair, absently scrolling through old photos of Freya on her phone, her daughter’s smiling face in her pink scrubs, arm-in- arm with Kiara and Calie at their nursing school graduation.

The three of them had been so full of hope and ambition that day, excited to begin their careers at Meadow Ridge General.

She paused on a group photo from a hospital fundraiser 8 months ago.

In the background, slightly blurred but recognizable, was Dr.

Velman watching the three nurses with an unreadable expression.

Had he always been watching them? And if so, why? The hours crawled by as Marca researched Marcus Daks, finding little beyond his arrest record and a few mentions in local news articles.

She had fallen into a rabbit hole of speculation and borderline overthinking when her phone alarm chimed, reminding her it was time to pick up Lihoa for the appointment.

Glancing at the clock, she realized she needed to leave immediately.

She grabbed her purse and car keys, locking the house behind her.

The drive to Lihoa’s house took only 10 minutes, and her friend was already waiting outside when she arrived.

“Any updates from Detective Ror?” Lihoa asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Nothing new,” Marsha replied, pulling away from the curb.

“Have you spoken with Isabelle?” “Briefly, she’s resting at home.

” Lihua fidgeted with the strap of her handbag.

This appointment, it’s for a patient with severe facial scarring from a burn injury.

I’ve been trying to find the right specialist and Dr.

Velman is one of the best in the region.

I understand, Marcia said, navigating through the afternoon traffic.

Professional life has to continue even through all of this.

They arrived at Velman Aesthetic Medicine 15 minutes before the scheduled appointment.

The clinic’s exterior was sleek and modern.

floor to ceiling windows framed by minimalist gray stonework.

The parking lot had several cars now, unlike earlier when only the doctor’s BMW had been present.

As they entered the reception area, they were greeted by a young woman in stylish medical scrubs behind a curved desk.

“Good afternoon.

Do you have an appointment?” she asked with a practice smile.

“Yes, doctor.

” Liwa Hang at 2:00, Liua replied, presenting her hospital ID card.

The receptionist tapped at her computer.

Then her expression shifted to apologetic.

I’m sorry, Dr.Hang, but Dr.Velman has canceled all his afternoon appointments due to an emergency.

We tried to contact everyone, but a few calls went to voicemail.

An emergency? Liua repeated, glancing at Marsha.

Is everything all right? I wasn’t given any details, the receptionist said, just instructed to reschedu all of today’s patients.

Will he be at Meadow Ridge General Hospital instead? Lihoa pressed.

The young woman shook her head.

I wasn’t informed about that.

I can reschedule you for tomorrow or early next week if you’d like.

Marsha, meanwhile, had moved toward the large windows overlooking the parking lot.

His car is still here, she observed, pointing to the silver BMW parked in the reserved space.

Has he left already? The receptionist hesitated before answering.

Dr.Velman is still in his office.

He said he would be leaving soon, but asked not to be disturbed.

Marsha and Leewa exchanged a look before thanking the receptionist and stepping back outside.

As they walked across the parking lot toward Marsha’s car, they passed Dr.

Velman’s BMW.

Marsha slowed, her attention caught by something in the back seat.

Through the car’s window, she could see the back seat was filled with medical equipment, an oxygen tank, what appeared to be monitoring devices, and most notably, a folded portable stretcher.

“Lewa, look at this,” Marcia whispered, gesturing toward the car.

Why would he have all this equipment in his personal vehicle? Doesn’t the clinic have its own medical transport? Liha peered through the window, frowning.

That is unusual.

Most practices have dedicated vehicles for equipment transport, especially something bulky like a stretcher.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Marcia said, moving away from the car as another patient approached the clinic.

First the argument this morning, now cancelling appointments, but still being here and all this equipment.

Marsha, Leewa said gently, touching her arm.

I think you might be overthinking things.

Put yourself in his shoes.

He’s a busy doctor who works both at the hospital and his own practice.

Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.

They got into Marsha’s car, but instead of starting the engine, she sat staring at the clinic building.

Should we wait and see what he’s doing? Where he’s going? That’s bordering on stalking, Liha said with concern.

Why don’t we go to Isabelle’s house instead? It would be better to stick together than spending time alone overthinking this situation.

Marsha hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod.

You’re right.

This whole thing is starting to get under my skin.

She started the car and pulled up to the intersection, waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

In her rear view mirror, she saw movement in the clinic parking lot.

Dr.Velman was hurrying to his car, carrying a small case.

“Look,” Marcia said quietly.

“He’s leaving now.

” They watched as the doctor got into his BMW and quickly backed out of his space.

He pulled up to the intersection beside them, positioning his car in the lane to their right.

From this close vantage point, they could see him clearly through his side window.

Dr.Velman was on his phone, oblivious to their presence.

His expression was tense, almost panicked, as he gesticulated wildly with his free hand.

At one point, he slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration.

“Please,” they heard him exclaim through the partially open window.

The next word was faint but unmistakable.

Dangerous.

His expression then softened, changing from anger to something akin to pleading as he continued the call, staring straight ahead and completely unaware of Marsha and Liua watching him.

When the light turned green, Dr.Velman’s car accelerated quickly, moving ahead of them into the flow of traffic.

Behind them, a car honked impatiently.

Marsha, startled from her observations, quickly drove through the intersection.

Without consciously deciding to do so, she found herself following the doctor’s BMW at a discrete distance.

“Marsa, what are you doing?” Leewa asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“That didn’t seem normal to me,” Marca replied, keeping the silver car in sight.

“Do you think it was normal?” We’re not going to tail the doctor like some detective movie, Leewa protested.

The nurse said it was an emergency.

It’s natural for him to be upset or worried in that situation.

This is irrational, Marsha.

We should just go to Isabelle’s place, calm down, and wait for updates from Detective Ror.

Marca was about to relent when she saw Dr.Velman’s car make a sudden turn at an intersection onto Pine Street, the road with the old car wash that Isabelle had mentioned.

the same street where the motorcyclist had turned earlier that day.

“Lehoa, this isn’t the way to Meadow Ridge Hospital,” Marsha said, easing off the gas as they neared the intersection.

If the doctor had an emergency procedure, wouldn’t he be heading there? It’s the only hospital in this town.

Lihoa pulled out her phone and opened a map application.

After a moment, she looked up with a frown.

You’re right.

There’s no hospital or medical facility down that road, she hesitated, then added.

Or any residential areas either.

That was all the confirmation Marsha needed.

She turned onto Pine Street, following Doctor Velman’s car at a distance.

Neither woman spoke as they left the familiar parts of Mil Haven behind, the urban landscape gradually giving way to more industrial, less maintained areas.

After about 15 minutes of driving, they found themselves on a rural road bordered by overgrown fields.

Ahead, Dr.Velman’s BMW pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned building.

A weathered sign, partially obscured by untrimmed branches, identified it as Meadow View Clinic.

Marca slowed her car, pulling into a gas station across the street.

From this vantage point, they could observe the doctor’s movements without being noticed.

The black motorcycle they had seen earlier was already parked near the building’s entrance.

“That’s the same bike,” Marsha whispered as if the doctor might hear them from across the street.

They watched as Dr.Velman began unloading equipment from his car, making repeated trips into the dilapidated building.

The clinic’s windows were covered with dust and grime, and parts of its exterior showed signs of long neglect.

“Why would he be performing any kind of emergency procedure in a place like that?” Liwa asked, her professional skepticism finally overtaking her defense of her colleague.

“And who’s the patient?” “Maybe that man I saw this morning,” Marca suggested.

“The one with the motorcycle?” Liha pulled out her phone.

I’m calling Detective Ror.

This is beyond suspicious.

Now, as Leewa made the call, Marca took out her own phone and began recording video of the doctor moving equipment into the building.

She sent the footage to Detective Ror and also to Isabelle along with their location.

Isabelle responded almost immediately.

What kind of motorcycle is that? Kiara mentioned seeing a distinctive bike following her.

Marsha quickly searched online for motorcycle models similar to the one parked outside the abandoned clinic.

Once she identified it, she sent the information to Isabelle.

“That’s it,” Isabelle replied.

“That’s the bike Kiara described.

I didn’t think much of it at the time.

” Liua finished her call with the detective and turned to Marsha.

They’re sending units right away.

Detective Ror says to stay in the car and not approach the building under any circumstances.

“Did he sound like he believed us?” Marsha asked anxiously.

“He didn’t question it at all,” Lihoa replied.

“In fact, he seemed almost like he was expecting something like this.

Maybe he had suspicions about Doctor Velman already.

” They settled in to wait, watching the abandoned clinic for any further movement.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours, though Marsha’s phone showed that only 15 minutes had passed since Liha’s call.

The distant whale of sirens broke the afternoon quiet.

Marsha and Leewa exchanged a look of relief as three police cruisers appeared on the horizon, lights flashing.

The vehicles pulled up to the abandoned clinic with precision, officers immediately deploying into tactical positions around the building.

Detective Ror emerged from the lead vehicle, quickly identifying Marsha’s car across the street.

He jogged over to them, his expression grim.

“Are you both all right?” he asked as they stepped out of the car.

“We’re fine,” Marcia assured him.

“We just followed Dr.

Velman here and called you as soon as we realized something wasn’t right.

” “You did the right thing,” he said, glancing toward the clinic.

“We’ve been looking into Dr.Velman since this morning.

After we found those scrubs, we reviewed hospital access logs from the past 6 months.

There were some irregularities with his badge usage, areas he shouldn’t have been accessing, times when he wasn’t scheduled to work.

You suspected him? Lihoa asked incredulously.

Why didn’t you tell us? I couldn’t.

Not without evidence, Detective Ror explained.

Dr.Velman is highly respected in this community.

Making accusations without proof would have been irresponsible.

A commotion at the clinic drew their attention.

Officers were surrounding the building, weapons drawn.

Through a loudspeaker, one officer was ordering the occupants to come out with their hands visible.

“I need you both to stay here,” Detective Ror instructed firmly.

“This is now an active police operation.

” He hurried back to join his team, leaving Marsha and Leewa watching anxiously from the gas station parking lot.

Minutes later, the clinic door opened.

Dr.Nathan Velman emerged first, his hands raised above his head.

His pristine appearance from earlier was gone.

His shirt was wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and his expression a mixture of defiance and resignation.

Behind him came another man, taller, more muscular, with faint markings on his face and hands that, even from a distance looked like the remnants of tattoos partially removed by burning or laser treatment.

Marsha realized this had to be Marcus Daks.

The officers quickly handcuffed both men, leading them to separate police vehicles.

Detective Ror approached Dr.Velman, speaking to him intensely for a moment before the doctor was placed in a cruiser.

Then something unexpected happened.

More officers emerged from the building, this time accompanying three frail-looking women who were being carefully helped toward waiting ambulances that had just arrived.

Even from across the street, Marca recognized them immediately.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, clutching Leewa’s arm.

“It’s them.

It’s our girls.

” Without thinking, they both ran across the street, ignoring the officer who tried to stop them.

Freya, Kiara, and Callie were being carefully loaded onto stretchers, looking severely malnourished and disoriented.

Their once vibrant faces were gaunt, their eyes hollow from months of captivity.

“Fya!” Marca cried, reaching for her daughter’s hand.

Freya’s eyes, unfocused at first, slowly registered recognition.

Mom,” she whispered, her voice cracked from disuse.

A paramedic gently intervened.

“Ma’am, we need to get them to the hospital immediately.

They’re severely dehydrated and malnourished.

” Detective Ror appeared at Marsha’s side.

“They’re alive, Mrs.Langston.

All three of them.

We’re taking them to Meadow Ridge General right now.

” “How how did you find them so quickly?” Liha asked, tears streaming down her face as she watched her daughter being loaded into an ambulance.

Once we breached the building, it wasn’t difficult, the detective explained.

They were being kept in what used to be the clinic’s isolation ward.

Marca pulled out her phone with trembling hands and called Isabelle.

Isabelle, they found them.

They’re alive.

We’re at the old Meadow View clinic, but they’re taking the girls to Metoidge General.

meet us there.

Isabelle’s scream of joy was audible even to Detective Ror, who nodded in understanding.

You can follow the ambulances to the hospital.

I’ll meet you there after we secure the scene.

As they hurried back to Marsha’s car, they could see forensic teams arriving, preparing to comb through the abandoned clinic for evidence.

Detective Ror was already coordinating officers, directing them to different areas of the property.

Marsha started her car with shaking hands, pulling out to follow the ambulances that now carried their daughters.

As they drove, Leewa called Isabelle again, filling her in on what little they knew.

Detective Ror said they arrested Dr.Velman and another man.

It must be Marcus Daks, Lihwa explained.

They found the girls inside the old clinic.

They’re alive, Isabelle.

They’re really alive.

As they followed the ambulances toward Meadow Ridge General, Marca tried to process what had just happened.

After six months of agonizing uncertainty of imagining the worst possible scenarios, her daughter was alive, wounded, traumatized, but alive.

The drive to the hospital seemed both endless and instantaneous.

When they finally arrived, the emergency department was already preparing for the incoming patients.

The ambulances pulled up to the bay and medical teams rushed out to meet them, efficiently transferring the three young women to waiting gurnies.

Marsha and Leewa were directed to a private waiting area where Isabelle joined them minutes later, breathless from running.

The three mothers embraced, their relief and joy mingled with concern over their daughter’s conditions.

“The doctor said they’ll come update us as soon as they’ve assessed them,” Marca explained, wiping tears from her eyes.

They’re severely malnourished, but they’re alive.

What happened? Why did Dr.Velman take them? Isabelle asked, clutching Marsha’s hand.

I don’t know yet, Marsha admitted.

Detective Ror said he’ll explain everything when he gets here.

As they waited, hospital staff periodically checked on them, offering water and reassurance.

Word had spread quickly throughout the hospital that the missing nurses had been found, and many staff members, some who had worked with the young women, gathered in the corridor outside, anxious for news of their colleagues.

A few hours later, Detective Ror arrived, accompanied by two officers.

His face showed the strain of the day, but there was unmistakable satisfaction in his eyes as he approached the three mothers.

They’re being stabilized, he informed them.

The doctors say they’ll recover physically with time and proper care.

“Can we see them?” Isabelle asked eagerly.

“Soon?” he promised.

The medical team is still working with them, but they assured me you’ll be allowed in as soon as possible.

“What happened to our daughters, detective?” Marsha asked the question they’d all been waiting to have answered.

“Why did Dr.Velman take them? Detective Ror gestured to the empty chairs.

You should sit down.

It’s a complicated story and we’re still piecing parts of it together.

Once they were all seated, Detective Ror began explaining what the police had learned through their initial interrogation of Dr.

Velman and Marcus Daks.

From what we’ve gathered so far, Dr.

Velman hired Marcus Daks through a criminal contact to get rid of the three nurses.

he explained, his voice grim.

He wanted them to disappear quietly, permanently.

But why? Leewa asked horrified.

That’s where it gets complicated, the detective continued.

According to Deaks, he was supposed to kill them, but he couldn’t go through with it.

Instead, he held them captive in the abandoned clinic, which we’ve discovered was previously owned by Dr.

Velman’s father before it closed down 15 years ago.

So, they’ve been there all this time?” Isabelle asked, her voice shaking.

Detective Ror nodded solemnly.

In a sealed off wing that used to be the isolation ward, they’ve been kept in extremely poor conditions, severely malnourished, and medically neglected.

However, they were kept alive.

“But why would Marcus Deaks keep them alive if he was hired to kill them?” Marsha questioned.

“Leverage,” the detective explained.

Deaks has multiple outstanding warrants besides the convenience store robbery.

He demanded that Dr.Velman perform illegal facial reconstruction surgery to help him escape law enforcement.

He believed a new face would give him a fresh start, a clean identity.

And Dr.Velman refused.

Leewa surmised her medical knowledge helping her understand the situation.

Exactly.

Detective Ror confirmed.

Dr.Velman had been stalling for months, claiming he didn’t have the sterile equipment or anesthetics at his private practice and that performing the surgery at the hospital would expose them both.

According to Deaks, the doctor told him I wouldn’t risk everything for a thug like you.

So the uniforms in the sewer, Marsha began.

That was Dee sending a message, the detective explained.

He was furious at being strung along.

He took the nurse’s uniforms from where he’d been storing them, bundled them with wire and surgical tape, and flushed them into an industrial toilet at the abandoned clinic, which connects to the main sewer system.

He wanted to pressure Dr.Velman into performing the surgery by threatening to expose what they’d done.

And that caused the blockage that led us to finding the uniforms, Isabelle realized.

Correct, Detective Ror said.

When we investigated the Marcus Deak’s lead from the fingerprints, we went to his last known address, but of course, he wasn’t there.

He’d been staying at the abandoned clinic all along, keeping watch over the nurses.

“Did he confess to all of this?” Liha asked.

“Yes, quite readily,” the detective replied.

He seemed almost relieved to be caught.

His exact words were, “Doc’s the one who set it all up.

I just did the dirty work.

A nurse appeared at the doorway, interrupting their conversation.

Excuse me, but one of the patients is asking to speak with you, detective.

She says it’s important.

Which one? Marcia asked anxiously.

Freya Langston, the nurse replied.

She’s more stable than the others and insisting on speaking with the detective immediately.

Detective Ror stood.

I’ll go see what she has to say.

It might help fill in some of the missing pieces.

Can I come with you? Marca pleaded.

I need to see my daughter.

After a moment’s consideration, the detective nodded.

All right, but she’s still very weak, so please let her speak at her own pace.

They followed the nurse down the corridor to a private room where Freya lay in a hospital bed, IVs attached to her arms and monitoring equipment beeping steadily beside her.

Despite her frail appearance, her eyes were alert and determined.

“Mom,” she whispered as Marca rushed to her side, carefully embracing her daughter.

“Oh, Freya,” Marca sobbed, stroking her daughter’s hair.

I never gave up hope.

After a moment, Freya turned her attention to Detective Ror.

“You need to know why he did this,” she said, her voice weak but resolute.

“Take your time,” he encouraged, pulling a chair closer to the bed.

“Fya took a shaky breath.

Dr.Velman was falsifying patient records and insurance claims.

He was also inappropriate with sedated patients during procedures.

She looked away clearly uncomfortable with the details.

I started noticing discrepancies in the paperwork about 7 months ago.

Things that didn’t add up.

Did you confront him? Detective Ror asked.

Freya shook her head slightly.

Not directly.

I was scared to lose my job.

I talked to Kiara and Calie about it first.

We decided to gather evidence before reporting him to the hospital administration.

“So, you were investigating him?” Marsha realized, squeezing her daughter’s hand gently.

“We were careful, or at least we thought we were,” Freya continued.

“But he must have found out somehow.

” “One night after our shift, we were all walking to our cars in the hospital parking garage when a van pulled up.

The last thing I remember is someone putting something over my face.

Detective Ror nodded, making notes.

That fits with what we’re learning.

Dr.Velman couldn’t risk his reputation being destroyed, so he hired Deaks to eliminate the threat.

Is Kiara okay and Callie? Freya asked anxiously.

They’re being treated, Marcia assured her.

They’re going to be all right, just like you.

In the hallway outside, they could hear commotion as more hospital staff gathered, word having spread rapidly that the missing nurses had been found.

A different nurse appeared at the doorway.

Excuse me, detective.

Dr.Hangs daughter is awake now and asking to speak with you as well.

Detective Ror nodded.

I’ll be right there.

He turned back to Freya.

Thank you for this information.

It’s going to help us build a solid case against Dr.

Velman, “There’s one more thing,” Freya said, her voice growing weaker with fatigue.

“The man who kept us, Marcus, he wasn’t as cruel as he could have been.

He brought us food and water.

He even sneaked in medications when Cali developed an infection.

” “I think I think he was trapped, too, in his own way.

” Detective Ror considered this.

His cooperation might get him some consideration during sentencing, but he’ll still face serious charges for his part in this.

As they left Freya’s room to check on the other young women, hospital staff approached with questions and offers of support.

News cameras had already gathered outside the hospital, and journalists were attempting to get statements from anyone entering or leaving the building.

Detective Ror turned to Marsha.

I need to check on the other victims and then coordinate with my team at the clinic.

They’re searching Dr.

Velman’s office here at the hospital as well, looking for evidence of other crimes he might have committed over the years.

Isabelle approached them from down the hallway, her face stre with tears of joy.

Kiara’s awake.

She’s asking for me.

Marca embraced her friend.

Go to her.

I’ll be with Freya.

As Isabelle hurried to her daughter’s room, Liha joined them, her professional demeanor barely containing her emotional state.

Callie’s condition is improving, she reported.

The doctors say she’ll need extensive physical therapy, but she’ll recover.

They all will, Marcia said with conviction.

They’re survivors, all three of them.

News of the rescue spread rapidly throughout Mil Haven.

As evening fell, a small crowd of well-wishers gathered outside the hospital, holding candles in a spontaneous vigil of support for the three young nurses who had endured so much.

Inside, Marca returned to Freya’s room, pulling a chair close to her daughter’s bed.

She held Freya’s hand gently, watching as her daughter drifted into a peaceful sleep for the first time in six months.

The following days brought a flurry of activity at Meadow Ridge General Hospital.

The three young nurses were moved to a secure wing where they could recover together, their rooms adjacent to provide comfort in their shared experience while allowing for individual care.

Their physical recovery would take time.

Months of malnutrition had taken a severe toll on their bodies.

But it was the psychological healing that would prove the greater challenge.

Hospital psychologists began gentle therapy sessions, helping them process the trauma of their captivity.

One week after their rescue, Marcia arrived at the hospital to find Freya sitting up in a wheelchair by the window of her room.

Though still gaunt, some color had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes held more of the spark that had always characterized her.

“Mom,” she greeted with a small smile.

“Isabelle and Liha are here, too.

We’re all going to meet in Callie’s room.

Marsha helped wheel her daughter down the hallway to where Isabelle and Leewa were already waiting with their daughters.

The scene was emotional but hopeful.

Three mothers reunited with their children against all odds.

The doctors say we can probably go home in another week, Kiara announced, her voice stronger than it had been since their rescue.

with home care nurses, of course.

And lots of nutritional supplements, Cali added, her medical knowledge asserting itself despite her ordeal.

Our muscle mass is severely depleted.

Detective Ror arrived a short time later, knocking politely on the open door before entering.

Ladies, I hope I’m not interrupting.

Not at all, Liwa assured him.

We were just discussing the recovery timeline.

I have some updates on the case that I thought you might want to hear, he said, taking a seat that Marsha offered him.

Dr.Velman has been formally charged with multiple felonies, including kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, insurance fraud, and several counts of medical malpractice.

What about Marcus Deaks? Freya asked quietly.

He’s cooperating fully, Detective Ror explained.

In exchange for his testimony against Dr.

for Velman.

The prosecutor is considering reduced charges.

He’ll still serve time, but his actions in keeping you alive and eventually making the discovery of the uniforms possible will work in his favor.

Has Dr.

Velman explained why he didn’t just fire us? Callie asked the question they’d all been wondering.

Why go to such extremes? According to a statement, it wasn’t just about the insurance fraud you discovered.

The detective revealed his private practice was deeply in debt.

He’d taken out enormous loans to establish it, and he was using fraudulent insurance claims to keep it afloat.

If you had reported him, he would have lost his medical license, his practice, everything.

So, he decided our lives were worth sacrificing instead, Kiara said bitterly.

There’s more, Detective Ror continued.

When we searched his office at the hospital and his clinic, we found evidence of other crimes dating back years.

Multiple incidents of inappropriate conduct with sedated patients, falsified medical records, even prescription drug theft.

He’d built his career and reputation on a foundation of deception.

“And no one suspected,” Isabelle asked incredulously.

He was very careful, the detective explained, until Freya started noticing discrepancies.

According to his confession, he panicked when he realized she was documenting his activities.

When he learned she’d confided in Kiara and Cali, he saw all three of you as threats that needed to be eliminated.

How did he connect with Marcus Daks? Marsha wondered.

through a former patient who had criminal ties.

Detective Rooric said Daks was desperate to change his appearance to avoid outstanding warrants.

Dr.Velman promised him facial reconstruction in exchange for handling the three nurses, but once the deed was done, the doctor kept putting off the surgery, claiming various excuses.

The conversation paused as a nurse entered to check on the patients, adjusting IVs and recording vital signs.

After she left, Freya spoke up, her voice reflective.

I remember the last day before we disappeared, she said, “I was organizing patient files and found duplicate billing for procedures that hadn’t actually been performed.

When I mentioned it to Dr.

Velman, he brushed it off as a clerical error, but the look in his eyes.

” I should have known something was wrong.

You couldn’t have predicted this, Marca assured her.

No one could have.

Later that afternoon, as the mothers prepared to leave for the day, Freya asked Marca to stay behind for a moment.

“I kept thinking about you,” she confessed, tears welling in her eyes.

“During the worst times, when I was sure we wouldn’t survive, I kept picturing you at home waiting for me.

It gave me strength to hold on.

” Marsha embraced her daughter carefully, mindful of her fragile state.

“I never gave up,” she whispered.

“Not for a single day.

” Outside the hospital room, Isabelle and Leewa waited, their own emotions barely contained.

The three mothers had been forged into an unbreakable unit by their shared ordeal.

Just as their daughters had drawn strength from each other during their captivity, the hospital administrator offered them their positions back, Liwa shared.

When they’re ready to return to work.

Do you think they will? Marsha asked, glancing back toward the room where Freya was now resting.

I don’t know, Isabelle admitted.

But whatever they decide, they’ll have our support.

As they walked through the hospital corridors toward the exit, they passed the dermatology and plastic surgery department where Freya had once worked alongside Dr.Velman.

The staff there were subdued, still processing the betrayal by their former colleague.

Outside, the evening sun cast long shadows across the hospital grounds.

Media trucks still lingered, though the initial frenzy had subsided as the story transitioned from breaking news to ongoing coverage.

The three mothers paused, looking back at the building where their daughters were finally safe.

“I keep thinking about how close we came to never finding them,” Marcia said softly.

“If those uniforms hadn’t blocked that pipe, “If you hadn’t noticed Dr.

Velman’s strange behavior,” Liha added.

“If Detective Ror hadn’t connected the dots so quickly,” Isabelle finished.

They stood in silence for a moment, each contemplating the series of events that had led to their daughter’s rescue.

The path to healing would be long and challenging, but the nightmare of uncertainty was over.

“Same time tomorrow?” Marca asked, though she already knew the answer.

Isabelle and Leewa nodded in unison, and the three women parted ways, each heading home to prepare for another day of supporting their daughter’s recovery, a task they would face together, just as they had faced the long months of searching.