CHAP 4
CHAPTER 4 — The Woman in the Surveillance Room
Three days after Linda was escorted out of the hospital in handcuffs, Detective Sarah Collins arrived with a sealed evidence box.
"I thought you'd want to see this yourself," she said.
Inside were copies of the hospital surveillance recordings.
"I've already seen enough," I whispered, rocking my son to sleep.
Sarah shook her head.
"No," she replied. "You haven't."
She pressed play.
The footage showed Linda entering the maternity ward forty minutes before my labor became critical.
She wasn't alone.
Walking beside her was the anesthesiologist.
They disappeared into the medication room.
The timestamp skipped forward.
The same doctor emerged carrying a syringe already prepared.
Sarah paused the video.
"The medication logged in your chart wasn't the medication that entered your IV."
My blood froze.
"What was it?"
"A sedative."
Silence.
"Enough to leave you conscious..." Sarah continued.
"...but unable to remember signing anything."
My stomach twisted.
So I hadn't imagined the fog.
I hadn't imagined losing hours.
Someone had stolen them.
Sarah placed another photograph on the table.
"This nurse reported missing medication six months ago."
Another picture.
"Another mother claimed she woke up without remembering signing custody papers."
Another.
"And another."
Three women.
Three babies.
Three hospitals.
Each complaint had been dismissed.
Different cities.
Different doctors.
One common visitor.
Linda.
My breathing became shallow.
"This wasn't about my son..."
Sarah looked at me with grim certainty.
"No."
"It was already happening before you."
Before I could answer, the hospital television interrupted its morning program.
BREAKING NEWS.
Authorities had executed search warrants at Linda's estate.
Several locked filing cabinets had been seized.
Investigators believed they contained records involving newborn inheritances stretching back nearly twenty years.
Twenty years.
My son had never been the beginning.
He had almost become the latest victim.
Then Sarah's phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed instantly.
"What?"
A long pause.
"No... that's impossible."
She slowly lowered the phone.
"The anesthesiologist..."
"What about him?"
"He's dead."
"Car accident?"
Sarah stared at me.
May you like
"No."
"He was murdered."
