Just then, the lights in the medical ward flickered once.

The heart monitor beside the bed went dark, its screen fading to black.

The steady hum of the backup generator in the hallway suddenly cut out, leaving the room in near-silence.

From the hallway, we heard the heavy click of the electronic door locks releasing.

Every door in the corridor was unlocking at once.

My father’s hand began to tremble violently in mine.

“He’s overriding the system,” my father whispered.

A soft, electronic chime sounded from the speaker in the corner of the ceiling.

A voice we hadn’t heard tonight crackled through the intercom.

“Arthur, you really should have stayed in bed,” the voice said.

I froze, recognizing the cold, calculated tone of Julian Bellamy.

“And Emily,” the voice continued, sounding chillingly polite. “It is so nice to finally have the whole family together.”

A loud, metallic scraping sound echoed from the elevator shaft at the end of the hall.

The security officer outside our door drew his weapon, his eyes fixed on the dark corridor.

My father looked at me, his eyes filled with terror.