Volkov didn't speak during the return journey. The city passed before them like a succession of tired lights and wet streets. Novak knew how to recognize that silence: it wasn't reflection, it was a warning.

  "That paper…" Novak finally said. "They're still around." It's not a random threat.

  "No," Volkov replied. "It's a late warning."

  Back at the office, the clock read past midnight. Volkov left his coat on the chair and placed the hospital document in the center of the desk, as if it were fragile evidence.

  "I want to know who he was," he said. "If he's not in the records, then someone made sure to erase him."

  Novak began tracking irregular hospital admissions, accidents without follow-up, and patients without visits. The results soon emerged.

  "Marek…" he said softly. "There are two other similar cases. Different hospitals. Different dates. Same pattern."

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  Volkov approached the screen.

  —Dead?

  "One did. Another disappeared before being discharged. The third one…" Novak swallowed hard, "is still hospitalized."

  The silence grew heavy.

  "Where?" Volkov asked.

  "St. Elias Hospital. Intermediate Care Unit."

  Volkov was already grabbing his coat when the office phone rang. It wasn't an official call. There was no identification.

  He answered.

  For several seconds, only breathing could be heard on the other end. Then, a low, distorted voice:

  "You were at the hospital today."

  Volkov didn't respond.

  "The patient shouldn't have gotten this far," the voice continued. "Now there's trouble."

  The call ended.

  Novak looked at him, tense.

  "Was that...?"

  “A confirmation,” Volkov said. “Not a threat.”

  At that moment, Novak’s system issued an alert. The cameras at St. Elias Hospital had just gone offline.

  “Total blackout,” Novak said. “Right now.”

  Volkov felt that familiar weight in his stomach. The certainty that always came before the worst.

  “They’re not cleaning up the past,” he said. “They’re eliminating witnesses.”

  As they went out again that night, Volkov understood something that wasn't in any of the reports:

  the patient at the Central Hospital didn't die from what he knew, but from having survived long enough to try to talk.

  And if there were more patients, then the case wasn't just still open.

  It was still moving forward.