Chapter 8 - The Dark Floor
Emergency lights painted the hallway red.
A nurse rushed in and checked the monitor.
"Backup power is fine. Stay in bed."
"Is this the whole hospital?"
"Looks like this floor and two below. Security is checking it."
Marcus stood at the door, listening to his earpiece.
Then he swore.
"What?"
"A contractor badge was used at the electrical control room. The name on the badge is fake."
My heart hammered.
"Roman?"
"I don't know."
Miriam closed her laptop and placed it in her bag.
"We don't accuse without evidence. But we don't stay exposed either."
The shouting grew louder.
"Savannah!"
Roman's voice.
He was somewhere beyond the locked maternity doors.
"You told me he couldn't come up," I said.
Marcus's jaw tightened. "He convinced an administrator there was a medical emergency."
"There is. Mine."
Dr. Ruiz entered and pointed at Marcus. "You. Hallway. Keep whoever that is away from my patient."
Marcus almost smiled. "Yes, doctor."
Another contraction hit.
This one stole the joke from the room.
I curled forward, breathing through my teeth.
Dr. Ruiz checked me.
"You're progressing. Slowly, but yes."
Outside, Roman's voice came through the door.
"Savannah, I just want five minutes."
I stared at the wood.
Five minutes was Roman's favorite trick: enough time to turn my certainty into guilt.
"Tell him no," I said.
The nurse opened the door two inches.
"Mrs. Carter declines contact."
"I'm her husband."
"She declines contact."
"She is not well."
I called through the door, "I'm well enough to hear you."
Silence.
Then Roman's voice softened.
"Savannah, Claire lied to you."
Claire, who had followed us but stayed downstairs, suddenly appeared at the far end of the hall beside a security officer.
"Then play the recording," she called.
Roman turned.
The elevator doors opened behind him.
Two hospital security guards stepped out with a Chicago police officer.
Roman's face changed.
Not fear.
Calculation.
He looked back at my door and said, "If you send that file to the board, you won't just destroy me. You'll destroy everything your father built."
Miriam leaned close to me.
"That," she whispered, "is almost certainly a lie."
My phone buzzed in her hand.
The board chair had replied.
May you like
Emergency meeting. 8:00 a.m. Christmas morning.
Attendance required.
