Chapter 2 - THE CAMERA ABOVE THE INCUBATOR
Grant tried to leave with the divorce folder.
Hospital security blocked him before he reached the elevator.
“I am an attorney,” he said.
“You cannot seize privileged documents.”
The chief medical officer turned toward Nurse Lily.
“Was Mrs. Vale receiving pain medication when the signatures were obtained?”
“Yes.”
Lily looked at me.
“She received intravenous medication less than thirty minutes earlier.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“She was conscious.”
“I was conscious,” I said.
Every face turned toward me.
“I also understood every page.”
Grant looked relieved.
“There.”
“She admits the agreement is valid.”
My grandfather pulled a chair beside the bed.
“Emma, why did you sign?”
“Because I wanted him to believe he had won.”
Grant’s relief vanished.
Vanessa glanced toward the exit.
Theodore noticed.
“Nobody leaves until hospital security completes its report.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“I did nothing wrong.”
“You entered a restricted ward using someone else’s visitor authorization,” Lily said.
Vanessa looked at Grant.
He had used the spouse credential issued in my name to bring her upstairs.
The hospital president’s expression hardened.
“That is a serious security violation.”
Grant pointed toward the incubators.
“I am the father.”
“Then you should have been protecting the children,” Theodore replied.
He turned toward me.
“Tell me what happened.”
I described the papers.
The emptied accounts.
The canceled credit cards.
The apartment.
The company.
The way Grant looked at Noah and Elise before calling them weak.
I repeated every word.
Grant interrupted twice.
Each time, Theodore lifted one finger.
Grant stopped.
When I finished, the NICU was silent except for the monitors.
My grandfather looked toward the ceiling.
“Preserve the recording.”
Grant followed his gaze.
A small black camera rested above the incubator entrance.
His face changed.
“This room records?”
“For infant security,” the hospital president said.
“Audio and video are retained for seventy-two hours.”
Vanessa took one step backward.
Theodore looked at her.
“Did you know she had nearly died?”
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“Grant told me she was stable.”
“You wore her coat into the room.”
“He said she did not need it.”
My grandfather’s expression became colder.
“You stood beside two premature infants wearing clothing embroidered with their names.”
“You enjoyed the cruelty.”
Vanessa’s face flushed.
“That is your opinion.”
“No.”
Lily spoke before anyone else could.
“We all saw it.”
Grant pointed toward her.
“Stay out of this.”
Lily did not move.
“I am responsible for protecting my patients.”
“You are responsible for checking monitors.”
The hospital president stepped between them.
“Mr. Whitmore, threatening a nurse will not improve your position.”
Grant gripped the folder more tightly.
Theodore extended his hand.
“Give me the papers.”
“No.”
“Then give them to security.”
“No.”
A monitor alarm sounded behind us.
Everyone turned.
Elise’s oxygen level had dropped.
Lily rushed to the incubator.
A respiratory therapist entered.
I tried to stand.
Pain tore through my abdomen.
My grandfather caught my shoulder.
“Stay still.”
“What is happening?”
Lily adjusted a tube.
“She is having an episode.”
Noah’s monitor began alarming too.
Two separate teams moved around the incubators.
I forgot Grant.
I forgot Vanessa.
I forgot the divorce.
My entire world became two tiny chests struggling to rise.
Then Lily looked toward the medication line.
Her expression changed.
“This bag is not Elise’s prescribed concentration.”
The chief medical officer moved beside her.
“Who changed it?”
May you like
Nobody answered.
The medication had been replaced less than an hour before Grant entered the NICU.
