Page 97 of The Collector

"Mr. Cordoba?"

The voice came from behind. Raven turned.

A woman stood there, her smile warm enough to cut through the static. Something about her presence made his shoulders drop, easing the tension of the moment slightly.

"Yes— I'm Raven."

"Right this way," she said, linking her arm through his and guiding him down the hallway with gentle insistence.

"Your mother and I were friends," she added, glancing up at him. "You look like her. It's in the eyes, I think."

Her smile was soft, unforced—something about her felt natural, like she belonged in the middle of this chaos. She eased Raven's tension if only for a moment.

"That's why I asked to call you myself," she continued. "We have a very delicate situation that needs your attention."

As they rounded the corner, Nurse Diana guided him into room 312, her arm still looped through his like she was anchoring him to something softer than the truth.

She pulled back the curtain with practiced ease.

"This gentleman says he's your cousin—Stoker Cordoba."

Raven's breath caught.

The man in the bed was asleep or sedated. Raven inspected him closely. He resembled Stoker, but only faintly—like a sketch left out in the rain. The bulk of his normal stature was gone. His face had thinned; there were dark bags under his eyes. Even his jawline looked unfamiliar, like it had surrendered something essential.

Raven stepped closer, eyes scanning the man's arms. The tattoos were all there—every symbol, every scar woven into ink and accounted for.

But something was wrong. Not just physically. This version of Stoker looked… like a ghost of himself.

Raven didn't speak. He just stared, waiting for the man to stir, or for the truth to fall from the sky on him. He supposed this could be Stoker.

The man began to stir. He jumped, startled by the sight of Raven at his bedside.

"Rave?" He said, his voice rough with sleep.

Raven stared at him in disbelief.

Nurse Diana stepped back, giving them space. "I'll leave you two to sort things out," she said gently. "But Mr. Cordoba, I wantyou to know—because of your donations, and your mother's as well—we haven't contacted the police. We can move forward with doing so if you want us to, but I felt like you'd like that choice yourself."

She glanced at the man in the bed, then back to Raven.

"I'll also share the information given to me by the man who brought him in. He found him eight miles outside town, in the middle of a wildlife refuge, said he nearly ran him over—he was passed out in the road."

Raven's jaw tightened.

"He woke up just long enough to ask for this hospital by name. Makes me think he knew what this place meant to your family."

She paused, her tone shifting.

"The rest isn't mine to judge. Medically speaking, Stoker's stable. Malnourished, dehydrated—badly. But the lab work suggests this wasn't recent. He's been suffering for a long time."

She stepped toward the door. "If you choose to leave with him, let me know. I'll see you out, make sure there are no questions."

"Thank you, Diana, if you ever need anything. The Kings are at your disposal; ask for me directly."

She smiled a knowing smile and quietly shut the door behind her when she left.

Chapter 25