Chapter 33 - The Boy From Northstar
His name was Caleb Ross.
Fourteen.
Bruised wrist.
Split lip.
Terrified eyes.
Matthew found him sitting upright in a pediatric hospital bed with Lily beside him.
Caleb flinched when Victor entered.
Matthew immediately stopped his father at the door.
“Wait outside.”
Victor frowned.
Matthew pointed.
Victor left.
Progress.
Lily gave Matthew the chart.
“He was found at a bus terminal. Dehydrated. Mild concussion.”
“Police?”
“Outside.”
Caleb grabbed Matthew’s sleeve.
“No cops.”
Matthew sat down.
“You’re safe right now.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Tell me why.”
Caleb looked toward the hallway.
“They’ll send me back.”
“To Northstar?”
He nodded.
“I saw you on YouTube.”
Matthew blinked.
“Unfortunately, I’m on YouTube.”
“You said what they did was abuse.”
“I did.”
“They told us you were a liar.”
“That happens.”
Caleb’s breathing became faster.
Matthew slowed his voice.
“Look at me. You don’t have to tell me everything.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
Caleb looked confused.
“You control this conversation. Not me.”
The boy’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
Lily watched quietly.
Caleb whispered, “They have files on you.”
Matthew’s stomach tightened.
“What kind?”
“Your family.”
“How do you know?”
“I cleaned offices.”
“Why?”
“Punishment.”
He rubbed his wrist.
“They made us clean at night. Dr. Crane’s office was locked, but one night he forgot.”
Matthew recognized the name.
Dr. Elliot Crane.
Northstar’s chief clinical officer.
He had publicly attacked Matthew during the state hearings.
Caleb continued.
“There was a cabinet with names.”
“Mine?”
“Davis.”
Matthew glanced at Lily.
“What else?”
“Pictures of your dad. Your mom.”
“Hannah?”
Caleb nodded.
“And a little kid.”
“Emily Mercer?”
“I don’t know.”
Matthew showed him Emily’s photograph.
Caleb’s face went white.
“That’s her.”
Lily whispered, “Why would Northstar have Emily’s picture?”
Caleb began crying.
“Because her dad was there.”
Matthew froze.
“Daniel Mercer?”
Caleb nodded.
“Where?”
“Basement.”
Matthew stood so quickly his chair fell.
“Is he alive?”
“I think so.”
Victor heard through the doorway.
He stepped inside.
“Where is this facility?”
Caleb recoiled.
Matthew turned.
“Dad.”
“I heard him.”
“You’re scaring him.”
Victor stopped.
Then, astonishingly, he lowered himself into a chair near the door.
He kept his hands visible.
“My name is Victor.”
Caleb stared.
“I know.”
Victor almost smiled.
“That is usually unfortunate.”
Matthew glared.
“Not helping.”
Victor looked at Caleb.
“Daniel Mercer is someone I hurt indirectly many years ago. If he is alive, I want to help bring him home.”
Caleb whispered, “They said you kill people.”
Victor did not lie.
“I hurt people when I was younger. I have not lived that way for a very long time.”
Caleb studied him.
“My dad hurt people too.”
Victor’s expression softened.
“That does not mean you have to.”
Matthew watched his father.
Even after decades, Victor’s greatest transformation was visible in small moments.
Caleb gave them the location.
Northstar owned six facilities publicly.
But there was a seventh.
A converted school in the Catskills listed as a “staff training campus.”
Caleb had been transferred there after trying to contact a reporter.
Daniel was kept below the old gymnasium.
“How did you escape?” Lily asked.
“Laundry truck.”
Marcus, listening from the hallway, looked impressed.
Caleb whispered, “There are other kids.”
“How many?” Matthew asked.
“Eleven.”
“Being held illegally?”
“Some have parents who signed them in.”
“Do they want to leave?”
Caleb looked at him.
“All of them.”
Victor stood.
“We call the FBI.”
Matthew agreed.
This was not the old family.
No armed convoy.
No private assault.
No Victor Davis justice.
Federal authorities obtained an emergency warrant within hours.
But someone tipped Northstar off.
By the time agents reached the Catskills facility, most of it had been emptied.
Nine children remained.
Daniel Mercer was gone.
So was Dr. Elliot Crane.
Inside the basement, agents found restraints, shredded medical charts, hidden cameras, and one locked office.
On the wall hung photographs of dozens of families.
At the center was Matthew.
Below his picture, someone had written:
HE WILL OPEN THE DOOR.
Matthew stared at the evidence photograph.
Hannah stood beside him.
“What door?”
He shook his head.
Then Marcus entered carrying a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a key card from Matthew’s clinic.
Matthew looked at it.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because that card belongs to my office manager.”
Hannah’s eyes sharpened.
“Who?”
Matthew looked toward the clinic across Manhattan.
“Samantha Reed.”
His phone rang.
Samantha.
Matthew answered.
Her voice came in a whisper.
“Dr. Davis?”
“Samantha?”
“I’m sorry.”
His blood ran cold.
“Where are you?”
May you like
“They have my daughter.”
Then the line went dead.
