Chapter 4 - The Red Flag
At St. Matthew's, everything moved fast.
A nurse took Claire behind double doors. I followed until someone stopped me for two minutes to answer questions and show identification.
Those two minutes felt criminal.
When I finally reached her room, Claire was in a hospital gown with monitors strapped across her belly. Our son's heartbeat filled the room in quick electronic gallops.
I had never loved a sound more.
Dr. Mira Patel arrived ten minutes later.
She was calm, direct, and clearly worried.
"Claire, your membranes have not fully ruptured," she said after examining her. "That's good. You may have had a small leak, and you're having contractions. We're going to monitor you closely and try to keep this baby where he is."
I finally breathed.
Then Dr. Patel looked at me.
"Mr. Vale, I also need to clear up something in Claire's chart."
Claire's hand tightened around mine.
Dr. Patel turned the computer screen toward us.
"This morning, a note was added stating that Claire had declined recommended fetal monitoring twice this week. That is false. She has not been in this office twice this week."
"Who added it?"
"We're investigating."
"My mother has copies of her records."
Dr. Patel's expression changed.
I handed her the folder.
She read the first page, then the second.
"Claire, did you sign either of these?"
"No."
"Did you authorize Evelyn Vale to access your portal?"
"No."
Dr. Patel picked up the phone.
"I'm calling compliance and security."
I expected Claire to look relieved.
She didn't.
She looked terrified.
"What?" I asked.
"Check my emergency contacts."
Dr. Patel clicked through the chart.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Your husband is listed first. Evelyn Vale is second."
"I removed her three weeks ago," Claire said.
"There's also a note saying you requested she be present for all major medical decisions if Adrian is traveling."
"I never said that."
Dr. Patel scrolled again.
Then she stopped.
"There's a behavioral flag."
"A what?" I asked.
"A note for staff to consider psychiatric consultation if Claire becomes agitated during labor."
The room went silent except for our son's heartbeat.
Claire's eyes closed.
One tear slid down her cheek.
"That's what she meant," she said.
"What did she mean?"
Claire opened her eyes.
"Last Tuesday she told me, 'If you make a scene at the hospital, they'll listen to me, not you.'"
I felt something in me turn from fear into rage.
Before I could speak, someone knocked.
A security officer entered.
"Mr. Vale? There's a woman downstairs claiming she's the patient's legal medical representative."
I didn't need to ask who.
May you like
The officer held up a document.
"And she has a notarized power of attorney."
