Room 414 smelled of iodine and old flowers. Dana, the night nurse, set down the morning chart and stopped cold. Mara was already there, her administrator badge catching the light, her lanyard crooked like she'd dressed in a hurry. In the bed lay Eli Voss, oxygen tube under his nose, eyes half open. "You shouldn't be in here," Dana said. Mara didn't move. "We need to talk before he wakes up."

Eli's hand twitched on the blanket. His cracked lips moved. "Dana," he whispered, ignoring Mara completely. "You're the only one I trust here. Come close." Dana leaned in. Mara stiffened, suddenly afraid of what this dying man might say.

"There's a flash drive," Eli breathed. "Taped under the third drawer in this room. Everything's on it. Names, dates, the meds." His grip tightened on Dana's wrist. "Promise me you'll get it out of this building." Behind them, Mara had gone very pale.

Dana knelt and pried at the third drawer. The flash drive was right where Eli said, wrapped in surgical tape. She closed her fist around it. "I've got it," she whispered. Eli's face relaxed, calm at last. "Then it's done," he breathed. Mara lunged for Dana's hand, but Dana was already stepping back toward the door, the drive hidden in her pocket, ready to carry it into daylight.