Found Obsession

Chapter 143: An Exchange For Health

March 13, 2007

Loud, ragged coughing echoed through the morning air. Rose wiped the sweat from her forehead, her body weak but her mind doing its best.

She hauled another box of blank paper inside, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. This was it. Slipping off her disguise—glasses and hat—she let out a shaky breath before returning to the printers.

Every piece of video evidence, every document, every photograph, every damning file—she was printing it all.

But as she eyed the ever-growing mountain of folders, a sinking feeling settled in her chest.

This was too much.

The Vatican book alone contained 260 names.

The Hansley list had 192.

And then there was Elijah.

Her eyes flickered to the Blue Program and the integrations she had left behind. The moment she decided to take a look at Elijah's searches and peak at what he had been up to, her heart stopped.

He had already killed 200 from the Vatican book. He had done an extended list of victims to that book, that had only made the amount of murders add up.

He had previously killed 120 from the Hansley list and from those an extended list had been added. 

His murders had ascended. 

When Rose saw the full scope of his actions, her hands trembled.

Her eyes widened in horror.

Disbelief.

The whole access to the Blue Program had made him move faster than ever.

And somehow—somehow—he had lured those in the Vatican book to France. He was slaughtering them.

Meanwhile, she was here.

Sick.

Weak.

Barely keeping up because she would fall asleep for days at a time.

She considered blocking him, cutting him off from the program.

But the thought alone made her flinch, they would know in case Jonathan and the rest knew that Samantha Hanlsey maybe hadn't taken her. He was already furious with her. If she interfered, and he turned his complete rage toward her—

She wouldn't survive it and she needed the time.

She took a deep breath, trying to push the thought aside. She had managed to retrieve evidence against nearly everyone—except the Hansleys, her family.

Her father had never allowed their crimes to be digitized, or so she thought, she had found nothing.

Which meant the truth was out there somewhere—hidden within one of their mansions, orphanages, or underground vaults.

The last sheet slid out of the printer.

She exhaled. Months of work. It had taken everything. 

Everything.

She glanced at the boxes—staring at them as though she could feel the weight of what they carried. Then, her eyes landed on the USB drives, each packed neatly into envelopes.

Attached to them were letters. Explanations.

She was sending physical copies to Internal Affairs. The USBs to every nation and government she could, the USB drives carried digital evidence, meant to reach every country across the globe.