Chapter 2 - The Hospital Doctor Quietly Told Me Maya’s C-Section Records Had Been Altered, and I Realized Her Suffering Was Not Neglect but a Deliberate Attempt to Make Her DieMaya was admitted immediately.
The emergency doctor barely glanced at her chart before calling for blood work.
“She's severely dehydrated.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that she shouldn't have been walking.”
I looked toward Liam.
Another nurse was warming him beneath an incubator.
“He's hypothermic.”
My stomach tightened.
“He's eleven days old.”
“I know.”
“Why is he so cold?”
The nurse looked at me.
“Because someone hasn't been keeping him warm.”
I wanted to explode.
Instead, I asked:
“Will they be okay?”
“We'll stabilize them.”
Those words were the first good thing I'd heard all night.
I sat beside Maya.
She was unconscious.
Her face looked smaller than I remembered.
Too pale.
Too fragile.
I touched her hand.
“You should have called me.”
She didn't answer.
A nurse entered.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes?”
“May I speak with you privately?”
We walked into the hallway.
She looked nervous.
“I've worked postpartum for fourteen years.”
“Okay.”
“Something about your wife's recovery isn't right.”
“What?”
“Her discharge plan was unusual.”
“How?”
“Her surgeon recommended follow-up every forty-eight hours.”
“Was it done?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Someone canceled them.”
I stared.
“Who?”
She pulled up the hospital records.
“Your family attorney.”
My jaw tightened.
“Thomas Reed?”
“Yes.”
“Why could he cancel medical appointments?”
“He was listed as the authorized family representative.”
I felt sick.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
She handed me another page.
Medication orders.
Several had been discontinued.
Nutrition consultations canceled.
Home nurse visits canceled.
The official reason:
Patient declined.
“Maya never declined.”
“I know.”
I returned to the room.
Then I noticed something on her wrist.
A bruise.
Finger-shaped.
I photographed it.
I called my head of security.
“Find every camera recording from the apartment for the last thirty days.”
“Boss, that will take time.”
“Do it now.”
He hesitated.
“Understood.”
I looked at Liam.
His tiny hand curled around my finger.
I whispered:
“I'm here.”
Maya woke.
Her eyes opened slowly.
“Liam?”
“He's okay.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She started crying.
“I was afraid.”
I moved closer.
“Tell me everything.”
She stared at the ceiling.
“Your mother said you didn't want another child.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She said you were angry about the pregnancy.”
“I never said that.”
“She showed me messages.”
“What messages?”
“From your phone.”
I froze.
“Do you still have them?”
“No.”
“Who else saw them?”
“Chloe.”
My sister.
Of course.
I had sent Maya romantic messages throughout pregnancy.
Someone had forged them.
Or altered them.
I asked:
“Did you ever believe me?”
She looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because everyone else said you were too busy to come home.”
I touched her hand.
“I would've crossed the world for you.”
She cried.
“I know that now.”
Then her face changed.
“David.”
“What?”
“There was a man.”
“What man?”
“Before you came home.”
“Where?”
“The apartment.”
“What did he do?”
“He stood outside the baby's room.”
My blood went cold.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Did you know him?”
“No.”
“What did he look like?”
She thought.
“Dark coat.”
“Anything else?”
“A silver ring.”
My stomach dropped.
I knew the ring.
Thomas Reed wore one.
A family crest.
I left the room.
I called Thomas.
He didn't answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
Then I received a message.
Stop asking questions.
No number.
Then another.
Your wife survived because you came home early.
I stared.
A third arrived.
Next time, you won't.
I looked through the hospital window at Maya.
Then Liam.
My anger became cold.
Someone had been trying to make my wife die.
Not accidentally.
Not through neglect.
Deliberately.
And the people around me had helped.
I called my security director.
“Find Thomas.”
“Alive or dead?”
I looked toward Maya.
“Alive.”
A pause.
May you like
“And if you find anyone else involved?”
“Bring them to me.”
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