smon

Chương 2

“You created the liability.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I know my wife was unconscious this morning. I know you obtained documents involving her marriage. I know you’re standing in her recovery room defending it.”

The administrator’s tablet chimed. She silenced it with trembling fingers.

Daniel continued. “Raymond, ask Ms. Kane to leave the patient suite.”

The security officer’s attention flicked to Victoria. She had approved his promotion six months earlier. Everyone in the room appeared to remember that at once.

“Ms. Kane,” he said carefully, “I need you to step outside.”

Victoria did not move.

“You report to me.”

“Tonight I report to hospital policy.”

“I wrote half of hospital policy.”

“And outside counsel will probably enjoy reading the half you ignored,” Amelia said.

Victoria looked at her.

The arrogance had not disappeared. It had condensed. Behind it, something frantic had begun calculating.

She picked up the papers.

“Leave those,” Daniel said through the phone.

Victoria held them more tightly. “They’re privileged.”

“They were placed on a patient’s body in front of witnesses. Put them down.”

Dr. Harris drew his hand from his pocket. It was empty. He kept staring at the documents as though he had seen them before.

Amelia noticed.

“Doctor,” she said, “what are you afraid is on those pages?”

Harris swallowed. His eyes shifted toward Victoria.

“That isn’t a medical question.”

“No. It’s a human one.”

Victoria lowered the packet to the mattress, placing it more gently than she had the first time. “This conversation is finished.”

She turned toward the door.

“Not quite,” Amelia said.

Victoria stopped.

“My ring.”

The room’s attention moved to the medical waste bin.

A red biohazard liner folded over its rim. The diamond lay near the top among sealed gauze wrappers, an empty syringe package, and the paper backing from Amelia’s IV tape.

Raymond stepped toward it.

“Don’t reach inside,” Maya said. Her voice emerged stronger than before. “The contents need to be handled according to disposal protocol.”

Victoria glanced over her shoulder. “It’s a ring, not evidence.”

Maya’s jaw tightened. “Right now it’s both.”

The statement seemed to surprise Maya as much as everyone else.

Victoria looked at her for a long second, memorizing the defiance.

Then she walked out.

Her heels struck the polished corridor floor with deliberate, even clicks. Raymond followed, leaving the door open. The young administrator remained by the wall, holding the tablet against her chest.

Amelia lowered the phone from speaker and put it back to her ear.

“How far away are you?” she asked.

Daniel exhaled. “The plane landed twenty minutes ago. I’m getting a car.”

“That means at least forty-five minutes.”

“Maybe thirty.”

“Daniel.”

“Forty.”

“You told me you were flying to Boston.”

“I changed the return after your surgeon called.”

“My surgeon called you?”

“Harris left a message saying the procedure was more complicated than expected.”

Dr. Harris looked at the floor.

Amelia’s eyes moved to him. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“He said you were stable.”

“That isn’t the same sentence.”

“No.”

She looked down at the blank signature lines. Her ring finger had a pale indentation where the band had rested for four years.

“Did you authorize anyone to prepare divorce documents?”

“No.”

“Did you discuss divorce with Victoria?”

“No.”

“Did you discuss me with her?”

Daniel hesitated.

The pause told Amelia more than an immediate lie would have.

“Daniel.”

“I told her we’d been having problems.”

The monitor beeped three times while Amelia said nothing.

Their problems had been private by mutual agreement, which was the phrase Daniel used when he meant he did not want discomfort escaping into a room he could not control. They had not told his board, his mother, or most of their friends that Amelia had moved into the guest bedroom in March. They had certainly not told Victoria Kane.

“What else?”

“I told her you were considering taking time away from the foundation.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know.”

“Then answer me.”

He did not.

Amelia’s hand pressed more firmly over the soreness beneath her gown.

“Get here,” she said.

She ended the call before he could promise.

For several seconds, the suite contained only the hospital sounds that had existed before Victoria entered: ventilation humming through the ceiling, a cart rolling beyond the doorway, the monitor measuring Amelia’s pulse with more honesty than anyone else in the room.

The administrator cleared her throat.

“I’m supposed to secure the documents.”

“What’s your name?” Amelia asked.

“Leah Moreno. Assistant administrator.”

“Do you work for Victoria?”

Leah looked uncomfortable. “Everyone in administration reports through her office.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“No,” Leah said quietly. “It wasn’t.”

Amelia lifted the packet by one corner. “Bring me a clear evidence sleeve. Record every page before moving it. Make sure the original stays in the hospital safe until outside counsel arrives.”

Leah glanced toward Dr. Harris, perhaps seeking a more legitimate authority.

He nodded once.

“I’ll get one.”

When Leah left, Maya pulled a fresh pair of gloves from the dispenser. She sealed the waste bin lid without disturbing the contents, then wrote the time on a label.

“You did that quickly,” Amelia said.

“We train for contaminated valuables.”

“No one trains for this.”

Maya almost smiled. “No.”

Dr. Harris remained near the foot of the bed. He had not checked Amelia’s chart or asked about her pain. The omission sat between them.

“You knew about the documents,” Amelia said.

He rubbed his thumb along the seam of his coat. “I knew there had been a request.”

“From Victoria?”

“From legal services.”

“Internal legal?”

“Yes.”

“What did they ask you to do?”

Harris looked at Maya.

She stared at the monitor, giving him no rescue.

“They wanted an assessment of your cognitive capacity once you woke,” he said.

“For signing.”

“For understanding documents.”

“That is an elegant way to avoid the word.”

May you like

His mouth tightened. He had the exhausted face of a man who had spent years mastering respectable language for indecent situations.

“I refused to certify you before examining you.”

Other posts