Chapter 5 - The Hospital That Forgot
The medical examiner's office told Darlene that the original autopsy had been waived.
Thomas Stanley's death certificate had been signed by Dr. Adrian Kessler.
The family had been advised that a viewing would be too distressing.
Darlene remembered how Julian had taken her phone, handled the arrangements, and insisted she return to the company.
She had called it kindness.
Now she could barely say the word.
Blake watched her absorb the news and recognized the particular shame of discovering that grief had made you easier to deceive.
“Who knew you wouldn't demand to see Thomas?” he asked.
“Julian.”
“Anyone else?”
“Thomas himself.”
Naomi arranged independent legal counsel for the records investigation and notified the police.
Meanwhile, Blake visited St. Agnes with the detective.
The hospital administrator offered a polished smile and a conference room with stale coffee.
“I assure you our institution complied with every regulation in force.”
“Then you won't mind giving investigators the preservation notices,” the detective replied.
The administrator's smile faded.
Sarah's chart contained contradictions.
Two nurses documented that she was awake and asking to see Blake at 10:40 p.m.
A physician's note thirty minutes later called her unresponsive for the entire evening.
The medication record showed an entry amended weeks after her death.
Blake remembered being told visitors were prohibited that night.
He had sat in the parking garage with a bag of her favorite peach candies, waiting for permission to say goodbye.
He had never been allowed inside.
A retired nurse named Marisol Vega agreed to speak privately.
She looked at Sarah's photograph for a long time.
“I remember her.”
“Was she afraid?” Blake asked.
“Terrified.”
“Of her surgery?”
“Of the people who were reading her child's file.”
Marisol explained that Sarah had worked as a temporary data auditor for a Northstar research project before Abigail was born.
She discovered patient consent forms that had been changed after signatures were collected.
When she reported it, she was transferred away from the project.
After Abigail's birth, Sarah began receiving envelopes with no return address.
One contained a picture of her baby in the neonatal nursery.
Blake swallowed hard.
“Why didn't you tell the police?”
“I tried.”
Marisol looked at the detective.
“My report disappeared.”
She reached into her purse and produced a tiny storage device.
“Sarah gave me this before her last procedure.”
The detective placed it in an evidence bag.
“What does it contain?”
Marisol's eyes filled.
May you like
“A recording of the man who told her the baby never should have survived.”
