The clinic was nothing like what Star had imagined—immaculate, quiet, and almost too polished for a place tied to the mystery they were chasing.
"This place doesn't look like it houses lunatics," Star whispered skeptically as they stepped inside.
"Are you sure this is the right address?" she added, eyeing the sterile walls.
Mandume gave her a quick nod, scanning the reception area. "Let's ask the receptionist."
He approached the desk confidently. "Excuse me, can you help us?"
"You're excused," the lady at the desk replied, not even glancing up.
"We're looking for the records of a former patient. Mr. Davids David," he said, placing the crumpled medical report on the counter.
"Do you keep records of ex-patients?" Star asked.
"Who's asking?" the woman said flatly, typing.
"I'm his son," Mandume responded, his voice hard with quiet resolve.
She stopped typing and looked at him, as if searching his face for truth. "Mr. Davids left this clinic on August 30th, 2021. He was under the care of Mrs. Romero."
"Where can we find her?" Mandume asked quickly.
"She no longer works here. I'm afraid I can't give you any more information."
"But surely you have a phone number? An address?" Star insisted.
"We're not allowed to share personal details of ex-employees," the woman replied sharply.
Star leaned closer, her voice lowering. "Ma'am, please. Mr. Davids went missing under your watch. If you won't help, we can open a missing person's case—and this clinic will be the first suspect."
The receptionist stiffened. "Are you threatening me?"
"No, I'm stating facts," Star said calmly. "If you won't help us, we'll take this further."
Mandume tugged her arm. "Let's go. We'll find another way."
"No, Mandume. We need answers."
As he walked out, the receptionist picked up the phone. A few moments later, she turned to Star. "Wait on that bench."
Star sat tensely. After a few minutes, a nurse called her into a back office.
Inside, a man sat behind the desk. The door closed with a final click behind her.
"Good morning," she said cautiously.
"Morning," the man replied. "Sit down."
"I'm looking for information about Mr. Davids."
"We don't keep patient records after discharge," he said without hesitation.
"But the receptionist said—"
"I don't know what she told you, but Mrs. Romero doesn't work here anymore either."
Something about him felt off. Too rehearsed. Too clean.
"Did you know Mr. Davids?" Star asked.
"Yes, he was a patient."
"Then why didn't you report his disappearance to the police?"
"Who says we didn't?"
"Then give me the case number," Star pressed.
The man's eyes narrowed. "What's your relationship to him?"
"He's human. That's enough."
"You've got some nerve," he said, anger tightening his jaw. "I heard you tried to threaten my staff. You don't know who you're dealing with."
Star swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "And you do?"
The man leaned forward, venom spilling from his lips. "A bastard with no father, raped and left carrying a stranger's child. A hopeless case."
Her breath caught.
He knows.
Her thoughts spiraled. Maria… she told him.
"Oh God," she whispered under her breath.
"What's wrong? Truth hurts, doesn't it?"
"It may be true, but at least I still have a soul," she replied, rising. "Unlike you."
As she reached for the door, it opened—Maria stood there, smirking.
"Not so fast, Miss Shining," she said, stepping inside and locking the door behind her.
Star's heart pounded. She glanced around for her phone—she'd left it in the car.
Please, God… help me.
"You still have that proud look," the man said.
Star turned to him with a glare. "Who are you?"
"The owner," Maria said sweetly. "Mr. Romero."
"Funny," Star snapped. "You never told me he was your puppet."
Romero chuckled. "You would've known if you weren't so stubborn."
"She was stubborn alright," Maria said with a hiss. "Asking for Davids like she owned the place. Let me show her who owns what."
Maria approached Star with a twisted grin, reaching out for a mock embrace. Star shoved her hard—Maria tumbled into the desk.
Star dashed for the door, but Maria clicked a remote and locked it with a mechanical buzz. Then she pulled out a gun.
"STOP!"
Star froze, turning slowly.
"You don't mean anything to me, so don't think I'll hesitate," Maria said, her finger twitching on the trigger.
Star trembled as images of Tomas holding her at gunpoint flooded her mind.
"I planned this day, Star. You were always a problem. Especially when I saw you kiss Mandume, parading around pregnant with another man's child. Disgusting."
Romero frowned. "Maria, we had an agreement."
"Relax, I've got this."
Star couldn't hide her disgust. "You're not even his real mother, are you?"
Maria smirked. "Clever girl. No. I killed his mother on their honeymoon. That witch."
Romero stood. "I'll go prepare the drug."
"You have ten minutes," Maria barked. "No, wait. Take your sweet time—I want to enjoy this."
She flopped into his chair, gun still aimed at Star.
"Star," she cooed mockingly. "Thirty minutes left before your madness begins. Better pray that your star still shines."
Star leaned against the wall, silent, her mind racing.
Mandume is outside. Mom is waiting. I can't let this be how I go. Thirty minutes. God, give me one smart move. Just one.
"Any funny move, and I shoot," Maria warned. "I need Mandume's signature, and I won't let a nosy girl like you ruin my plan."
Star stared at her captor, her fists clenched behind her back.
She wasn't done.
Not yet.