The drive was a haze of paranoia. Every car seemed to follow, every shadow a threat. Her phone buzzed with calls from James and texts from Margaret urging her to return home. She ignored them, focusing on the road. As she neared Sarah’s neighborhood, a text from an unknown number appeared: You can’t escape forever. Turn back, or it’s over tonight. The threat iced her veins. Sarah’s modest ranch house appeared, its porch light a beacon. Emily parked and sprinted to the door, pounding until it opened. Sarah’s worried face greeted her.
— Emily, what’s wrong?
She pulled her inside, breathless.
— James, Margaret, they’re trying to kill me. The insurance, the drugs—it’s all here.
She thrust the phone and papers at Sarah, her voice cracking. Sarah scanned the records, her eyes widening.
— These doses could’ve been fatal over time. We need to get you to a hospital to flush this out.
Headlights flooded the room through the blinds. The black SUV idled outside, its engine growling. Sarah grabbed her arm.
— Back door, now.
They fled through the kitchen, out into the backyard, scaling a fence into an alley. Sarah led her to her car, parked a block away.
— We’ll head to Providence Hospital. They can’t touch us there.
As they sped off, the SUV gave chase, its lights glaring. Emily’s phone buzzed again. Dr. Thompson’s voice, frantic.
— They’ve got my location. I’m sorry, Emily. Run.
A scream cut the call short, leaving her numb. The doctor was gone, and she was next unless she outsmarted them. The hospital was her only hope, but with the SUV closing in, survival felt like a fading dream.
The car lurched as Sarah swerved through a tight turn, the SUV’s headlights relentless in the rearview mirror. The dashboard clock read 8:58 p.m. PDT, August 24, 2025. Portland’s city lights loomed, a chaotic mix of refuge and danger. Emily clung to the seat, the medical records pressed against her chest. Thompson’s scream echoed in her mind, a stark warning that time was nearly gone.
The SUV stayed close, its driver relentless—James, Margaret, or hired muscle? Sarah shouted,
— Hold on!
She weaved through traffic at a busy intersection, horns blaring as the SUV struggled to keep up.
— The hospital’s five minutes away, Sarah said. If we lose them in the crowd, we’re safe.
Emily gasped, her body weakened by the sedatives now confirmed as poison.
— They won’t stop, Sarah. We need a plan.
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
— We’ll hit the hospital’s ER entrance. Security and witnesses will slow them down.
Emily debated calling the police, but the unknown text—You can’t escape forever—made her doubt their safety. Her trust was shattered, leaving Sarah as her only ally. Sarah took a sharp left into a narrow street lined with cafes, the SUV overshooting the turn. They gained a brief lead, pulling into a parking garage. Abandoning the car, they sprinted toward Providence Hospital, a block away. The night air was thick, distant sirens offering faint hope.
They burst through the ER doors at 9:03 p.m., the fluorescent lights jarring. Nurses rushed forward, sensing their panic. Emily shoved the records into a doctor’s hands, her voice breaking.
— Help me! I’ve been poisoned—sedatives, fake prescriptions. They’re after me!
The doctor, a calm woman in her fifties, took the papers and signaled a security guard.
— Get her to a treatment room. Call the police.
As they wheeled her to a bed, Emily’s vision blurred, the drugs taking their toll. She fought to stay conscious as the doctor administered a counteragent.
— Tell me everything, the doctor urged.
Between gasps, Emily recounted the voicemails, the insurance policy, the chase. The doctor’s face hardened.
— This is attempted murder. We’ll notify the authorities.
Before she could finish, the ER doors slammed open. James wheeled in, flanked by two burly men, their faces grim. Margaret followed, her smile cold.
— Emily, darling, James called, his tone syrupy. You’re confused. Come home.
The security guard stepped forward, but one of the men pushed him down. Chaos erupted—nurses screamed, patients fled. Emily’s heart sank. They’d found her.
Then Sarah’s voice cut through.
— Step back!
She held her phone, streaming live on social media.
— This is happening now! Attempted murder at Providence Hospital!
The camera caught James and Margaret, their faces paling. The live feed, already gaining thousands of viewers, shifted the momentum. The guard recovered, bolstered by approaching police sirens. James’s men hesitated, their resolve cracking. Margaret hissed,
— Turn that off!
But it was too late. Officers stormed in, handcuffing the group. James glared at Emily, his mask slipping.
— You’ll regret this.
She met his gaze, the counteragent steadying her.
— No, James. You will.