THERE IS NO LOWER FLOOR

The plans end at B3. The elevator does not. The night before Harrowell Medical Center is demolished, elevator safety inspector Sabine Dacre arrives to complete one final load test and uncover the truth behind the disaster that destroyed her father's name. Official blueprints end at Basement Three. But when the service elevator registers forty-one pounds no one can account for, it descends below the foundation and opens onto a brightly lit hospital ward that should not exist. The beds are occupied. The machines are running. A faceless Porter pushes an empty gurney toward the elevator. Then a wristband printer produces Sabine's name and a time of death forty minutes away. The Lower Ward does not need chains to keep its patients. It has paperwork. Every deliberate lie becomes an admission. Every signature becomes consent. Nineteen years ago, thirty-seven patients and four staff members were erased from Harrowell's records and abandoned beneath the hospital. To escape, Sabine must finish the rescue her father began, restore the names the hospital buried, and survive a system that can turn documentation into flesh. Because the Lower Ward is still admitting patients. And there is no lower floor.