The taxi stopped outside Ashridge General Hospital.
The building looked old.
Most of the lights were off.
Only the emergency entrance was lit.
Ethan looked at the passenger.
“Is this where it started?”
The passenger looked at the hospital.
“You'll find your answer inside.”
“And you?”
“I don't belong in there.”
Ethan hesitated.
He had dozens of questions.
But he knew he wouldn't get any answers by staying in the taxi.
He stepped out.
The hospital doors slid open on their own.
Inside, the reception desk was empty.
The lights flickered now and then.
The place felt abandoned.
His footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Then he noticed something.
A wheelchair slowly rolled across the corridor.
No one was pushing it.
It disappeared around a corner.
Ethan followed it.
When he turned the corner…
Nothing.
The hallway was empty.
He sighed.
“I'm not falling for that.”
He turned back.
The wheelchair was standing behind him.
His heart skipped a beat.
Before he could react, a voice came from the end of the corridor.
“You're late.”
An old man stood there.
He wore a hospital security uniform.
His hair was completely white.
“You've been waiting for me?” Ethan asked.
The old man nodded.
“For eighteen years.”
Ethan frowned.
“Who are you?”
“I used to work here.”
“Used to?”
“I retired.”
He smiled faintly.
“At least… I think I did.”
The old man started walking.
“Come with me.”
Ethan followed him down the hallway.
Neither of them spoke.
Finally, they stopped outside a room.
The number on the door read—
213
Ethan stared at it.
The old man noticed.
“That room has been locked for years.”
“Why?”
“No one wanted to use it after that night.”
Ethan looked at him.
“What happened?”
The old man's face turned serious.
“A child was brought here.”
“He had no pulse.”
Ethan felt a chill.
“The doctors tried everything.”
“But at exactly 2:13 A. M…”
He stopped speaking.
“What happened?”
The old man looked directly into Ethan's eyes.
“The monitors started working again.”
“He came back.”
Ethan's breathing became heavy.
“The child survived?”
The old man nodded.
“But something else came back with him.”
Silence filled the hallway.
Ethan slowly reached for the doorknob.
Locked.
The old man handed him an old key.
“I've kept this for a long time.”
“Why didn't you throw it away?”
“I had a feeling someone would need it.”
The key turned easily.
The door opened.
Dust covered the room.
An old hospital bed stood near the window.
Everything looked untouched.
Ethan stepped inside.
On the bedside table was a patient file.
His hands shook as he opened it.
The first page had only one name.
Patient: Ethan Carter
He froze.
Date of birth.
Parents' names.
Everything was correct.
He turned the page.
There was a doctor's note.
Patient was declared clinically dead for two minutes following an accident. Heartbeat returned unexpectedly at 2:13 A. M.
Ethan couldn't look away.
Another paper slipped out of the file.
It was an old newspaper clipping.
“MIRACLE BABY SURVIVES AFTER BEING DECLARED DEAD.”
There was a photograph.
A doctor.
His parents.
And a baby wrapped in a blanket.
Ethan.
He slowly sat on the edge of the bed.
“So… I died.”
The old man nodded.
“For two minutes.”
Ethan looked toward the door.
“Is that why this is happening?”
The old man didn't answer.
Instead, he looked past Ethan.
His face suddenly turned pale.
“Ethan…”
“What?”
“You're not alone.”
Ethan slowly turned around.
The room was empty.
He looked back.
The old man was staring at the corner of the room.
“There.”
Ethan followed his gaze.
At first, he saw nothing.
Then…
A small boy slowly stepped out of the shadows.
He looked about eight years old.
He was wearing a hospital gown.
His face was familiar.
Too familiar.
It was Ethan.
Not the boy from the playground.
This one looked weak.
Scared.
He held a small toy taxi in one hand.
The child looked at Ethan for a long moment.
Then he quietly asked,
“Did you finally come back for me?”
The room fell silent.
Ethan couldn't answer.
Outside, the taxi's horn echoed once.
As if it had been waiting for him.