Chapter 2 - Two Women, One Medical Record
Gabriel read the page twice.
Then a third time.
“This has to be a mistake.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the patient identification number.
Mine.
The date of birth.
Mine.
The insurance policy.
Mine.
But the procedure notes described a woman who had never been pregnant when I was.
One entry dated four years earlier concerned prenatal genetic testing.
I had not been pregnant four years earlier.
Sabrina had.
Leo.
Gabriel sat down.
“Christian used your insurance?”
“That’s not what scares me.”
The signature beneath the authorization belonged to Dr. Henry Lawson.
My reproductive endocrinologist.
The man Christian recommended after my first miscarriage.
I remembered his gentle voice.
Sometimes nature is cruel.
You did nothing wrong.
Apparently nature had been receiving administrative assistance.
Another page showed medication orders under my patient profile.
Some had been prescribed to me.
Others had been redirected.
Why?
Gabriel reached for his phone.
I grabbed his wrist.
“No calls.”
“We need police.”
“Christian just admitted paying someone to attack me.”
“Exactly.”
“If he learns I heard him before we know who else is involved, what do you think happens?”
Gabriel stopped.
For the first time, fear replaced outrage.
“How much did you hear?”
“Everything.”
He closed his eyes.
“Then he’ll know I betrayed him.”
“Did you?”
His eyes opened.
That question mattered.
Gabriel had managed Christian’s career for nine years.
He knew schedules.
Money.
Women.
Secrets.
“Did you know about Sabrina?”
“Yes.”
Honesty, finally.
“How long?”
“Five years.”
My breath caught.
“Before me?”
“Yes.”
“Leo?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know about my miscarriages?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the attack?”
“Not until tonight.”
I studied him.
He looked ashamed.
But shame isn’t innocence.
“You helped him hide a child.”
“I helped him hide an affair.”
“A four-year-old child is not an affair.”
He looked away.
That told me what kind of man he had been willing to become as long as the damage stayed abstract.
Then the heart monitor changed.
Not because of me.
Someone had opened my door.
A nurse entered.
Marisol.
She looked at Gabriel, then the file in his hand.
“You found it.”
We both froze.
“You left this here?”
She shut the door.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Dr. Lawson ordered your original records removed from the hospital system.”
Gabriel stood.
“When?”
“Thirty minutes after you were admitted.”
My body went cold.
Marisol continued.
“I copied what I could.”
“Why help me?”
She hesitated.
“Because my sister used to work for Lawson.”
“Used to?”
“She disappeared three years ago.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Marisol looked at the sealed file.
“My sister was the nurse who entered your first miscarriage into the system.”
May you like
Then:
“And before she disappeared, she told me the pregnancy had been healthy.”
