Chương 5
Daniel looked at me as though I had somehow arranged the timing.
I almost wanted to tell him that for once, none of this was my doing.
Ruiz kept her hand extended.
“You can voluntarily preserve the device while we sort out what happened, or you can keep holding it and understand that I’m documenting everything I can see.”
Daniel slowly lowered the phone.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No.”
“Then I’m leaving.”
The security officer moved in front of the door.
Ruiz glanced at him.
“You can leave the hospital if you are not being detained, but before that happens, I need your identification and a statement about the allegation.”
Daniel gave a short laugh.
“You need a statement.”
“I’d like one.”
“Without a lawyer.”
“That is your choice.”
He slipped the phone back into his jacket.
“No.”
Ruiz nodded.
“Then don’t make one.”
The refusal seemed to unsettle him more than pressure would have.
He had expected argument.
Instead, she took out a small notebook and began writing.
Daniel watched the pen.
“What are you writing?”
“The time you declined to speak.”
“You’re making me look guilty.”
“You are responsible for how you look.”
Ethan made a noise that might have been a laugh.
I squeezed his hand before he could say anything.
Dr. Patel glanced at the monitor again.
“Claire, I want to examine you.”
The room suddenly felt overcrowded in a different way.
“I need everyone who isn’t medically necessary to step out.”
Daniel immediately said, “I’m staying.”
“No,” I said.
He stared at me.
“Claire.”
“No.”
“You’re in labor.”
“I know.”
“I’m the father.”
“You’re also the reason there are police officers in this room.”
His face tightened.
Ethan looked away.
That small gesture hurt more than if he had celebrated the words.
He knew me well enough to understand that saying them had cost me something.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Whatever you think happened, I am still her father.”
I put both hands over my stomach.
“Biologically, yes.”
The sentence landed harder than I intended.
Daniel’s eyes flashed.
“You don’t get to erase me.”
“I’m not erasing anything.”
“You’re already trying.”
“Get out.”
For a moment, I thought he might refuse.
Then another contraction started.
My breath caught.
Teresa moved beside me while Patel pulled on gloves.
“Out,” Patel said to everyone except Teresa and Paula.
Officer Ruiz nodded toward the hall.
The second officer guided Daniel first.
Ethan stayed until I looked at him.
“I’ll be right outside.”
“I know.”
His thumb brushed across my knuckles once.
Then he left.
The door closed.
Without Daniel in the room, I could finally hear the soft electronic rhythm of my daughter’s heartbeat.
It had been there all along.
I had stopped noticing it.
Patel examined me quickly.
“You’re two centimeters.”
My stomach dropped.
“I’m only thirty-five weeks.”
“Almost thirty-six.”
“That’s still early.”
“Yes.”
His answer was calm without being falsely reassuring.
“Is she okay?”
“Her heart rate looks reassuring right now.”
“Right now.”
“That’s what I can honestly tell you.”
I appreciated him for that.
Teresa adjusted the sheet over my knees.
“We’re going to monitor the contractions and see whether they continue.”
“Can stress cause this?”
“It can contribute,” Patel said, “but labor has a lot of causes, and sometimes we never get a neat explanation.”
I looked toward the closed door.
There was nothing neat anywhere.
Another contraction came six minutes later.
Then another eight minutes after that.
By the fourth, the room had become quieter and more serious.
Patel ordered medication intended to help delay labor if possible and another treatment because of the baby’s gestational age.
Teresa explained each one before touching me.
I asked her to read every label aloud.
She did not act offended.
When a different nurse brought in a syringe, I made Teresa verify it again.
The nurse looked confused.
Teresa simply said, “Safety concern.”
That was enough.
I hated how quickly suspicion had entered ordinary things.
A cup.
A syringe.
A badge.
A person saying trust me.
Paula returned after twenty minutes.
“Hospital administration has been notified.”
My first reaction was irritation.
“What does that mean?”
“It means there are people having conversations two floors away that none of us are invited to.”
“About liability.”
“Among other things.”
“Are they protecting Hale?”
Paula’s mouth flattened.
“They are protecting the hospital.”
At least she did not pretend otherwise.
“Is there a difference?”
“Sometimes.”
“And tonight?”
“I don’t know yet.”
That answer felt more useful than reassurance.
She told me Dr. Hale’s hospital privileges had been temporarily suspended pending review.
Security had confirmed he left through the physician garage.
His car was gone.
The police were trying to contact him.
“Trying?”
“He’s not answering.”
I stared at the ceiling.
The acoustic tiles had tiny gray specks arranged in no pattern at all.
I counted twelve before losing my place.
“What about Vanessa?”
Paula looked toward the door.
“I don’t know.”
Officer Ruiz returned a few minutes later without Daniel.
“He left the floor with our other officer.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
“Arrested?”
“No.”
I felt a flash of anger so hot it surprised me.
“He discussed paying someone to kill me.”
“I understand.”
“You heard the recording?”
“I listened to the copy your brother provided.”
“And?”
“And it is serious.”
“Then why is he walking around?”
“Because serious and immediately arrestable are not always the same thing.”
I knew that.
The lawyer in me knew it.
The woman in the hospital bed hated it anyway.
Ruiz pulled a chair closer but did not sit until I nodded.
“The recording is strong evidence of a conversation.”
“It’s a murder plot.”
“It may be evidence of conspiracy and solicitation.”
“May be?”
“We still establish identities, context, intent, corroboration, and what actions were actually taken.”
“My husband drugged my tea.”
“Did you keep the tea?”
“No.”
“Did anyone see him put something in it?”
“I did.”
“Did you see what it was?”
“No.”
She asked the questions gently.
May you like
That almost made them worse.
I knew exactly why each answer mattered.
