The next two days blurred into a frenzy of activity.
By Thursday morning, the task force had linked six more suspicious deaths to Elysium-9. All victims had one thing in common: they had visited Central Hospital in the three months before they died. Marcus doubled the team size and ordered full background checks on every doctor, nurse, and admin with access to patient records.
Ramis barely slept. He spent most of Thursday cross-checking names while Ruiz and two other detectives dug into financial trails.
At 11 AM, Ruiz slammed a folder on Ramis's desk.
"Look at this," Ruiz said. "Clara Voss had a private consultation at Central Hospital with Dr. Sophia Kane just ten days before she died. Same with Thomas Hale — he saw her twice last month."
Ramis froze. His stomach dropped. "Sophia Kane?"
"Yeah. The same doctor who patched you up the other night."
Ramis stared at the names. His mind raced through every conversation he'd had with her — the gentle touches, the questions about the case, the way she always seemed to understand the Dream Weaver's thinking.
Marcus walked over, noticing his son's expression. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing yet," Ramis said quickly. "Just… surprised. I met her. She treated my injuries after the warehouse fight."
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Coincidence?"
"I don't know anymore."
They didn't have time to dwell on it. At 2 PM, another body was found — a 39-year-old tech executive named Marcus Langford, smiling peacefully in his car parked outside his office. The white card under his hand read:
"Five dreams. The Sandman never sleeps."
The pace picked up even more. By evening, the team raided two private clinics connected to Central Hospital. They found traces of Elysium-9 in a hidden storage room, along with shipping logs that pointed back to Crowe.
Reed was brought in for another round of questioning at 9 PM.
"I told you," Reed said nervously, "the Dream Weaver has people everywhere. She uses hospital staff to spot the right victims — the ones who are rich, exhausted, and quietly desperate."
Ramis leaned across the table. "Does the name Sophia Kane mean anything to you?"
Reed thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. But the Dream Weaver is careful. She never uses real names with me."
The interrogation ended without a breakthrough.
Ramis left the station close to midnight. His phone had three missed messages from Sophia.
Sophia: Hey, haven't heard from you today. Everything okay?
Sophia: Long shift again. Thinking about that coffee we had. Hope your knee is better.
Sophia: If you need to talk, I'm still awake.
He stared at the messages for a long time before replying with a short:
Ramis: Busy day. Knee's fine. Talk soon.
He drove straight home, mind spinning. The connections were piling up too neatly. Central Hospital. Sophia's name appearing in victim records. Her calm understanding of the Dream Weaver's motives.
The next morning — Friday — the team got a major break.
A hospital IT technician came forward after seeing the news. He admitted that someone had been accessing restricted patient files late at night using a doctor's login credentials. The login belonged to Dr. Sophia Kane.
Marcus called an emergency meeting.
"We're bringing her in for questioning," he said. "Today. Ramis, you stay out of it. Conflict of interest."
Ramis didn't argue, but the knot in his chest tightened.
At 3 PM, two detectives went to Central Hospital to pick up Sophia for questioning. Ramis watched from the observation room as they brought her into the precinct.
She looked calm when they sat her down in the interrogation room — no handcuffs, just a polite request. Her curly auburn hair was tied back, and she wore her white doctor's coat.
Marcus entered the room with Ruiz.
"Dr. Kane," Marcus said, "we need to ask you some questions about several patients who died recently. Victor Lang, Daniel Park, Thomas Hale, Clara Voss… all of them were your patients."
Sophia's hazel eyes widened slightly, but her voice stayed steady. "They were patients at the hospital, yes. I saw a few of them in the ER or for consultations. Is something wrong?"
Marcus slid photos across the table. "They all died smiling after taking Elysium-9. You had access to their records. Can you explain that?"
Sophia looked genuinely surprised. "I see hundreds of patients. I don't remember every name. But if they died from some drug, I had nothing to do with it."
Ramis watched through the glass, heart beating faster. She sounded believable. Calm. Concerned.
The questioning continued for over an hour. Sophia answered every question smoothly, never raising her voice. She even asked if she could help with the investigation.
When it ended, Marcus stepped out and looked at Ramis.
"She's either innocent… or very good," he said quietly.
Ramis didn't reply. He kept thinking about her gentle hands on his knee, her soft laugh at the café, and the way she always seemed to know exactly what to say.
Later that night, as Ramis sat alone in his apartment, his phone buzzed with a new message from Sophia.
Sophia: They brought me in for questioning today. It was scary. I know you're working the case. Can we talk? I'm really confused and could use a friend right now.
Ramis stared at the screen for a long time.
The pieces were moving faster now.
And he wasn't sure who he could trust anymore.