Chapter 5 - Her Mother's Name
Raymond moved faster than Rebecca expected. He pressed his radio. "North stairwell. Stop the man in gray. Do not hurt him unless you have to."
Two officers took off. Rebecca stayed with Emily; Miles was already restoring the system from a spare laptop. Raymond returned to the examination room as though his heart hadn't been pounding.
"You look like Mom when you're angry," Emily said.
"Your mother was better at hiding it."
Eleanor Saint Claire had built the hospital's first maternity clinic above an old laundromat. Raymond had found the financing; Eleanor had convinced nurses to work late because no woman should have to cross a city in labor. The Whitmore name came later, when Preston's father paid for a new tower. Emily had grown up believing money bought a sign, not the mission.
"Preston says his family owns everything now," she said.
"His family paid for bricks. Your mother put the hospital into a family holding company and created a voting trust. It controls the operating company."
"You control it."
"I served as trustee while you were younger. You became the majority voting beneficiary when you turned thirty. I remain the trust protector. Preston was an executive you authorized to manage operations, nothing more."
Emily stared at him. "You never told me the transfer was complete."
"I sent the papers. The courier confirmed delivery to your house. Preston told me you wanted privacy until the baby came. I believed him." Raymond swallowed. "That was a mistake."
He showed her a digital copy of the signed trust. Her mother's name looked alive on the page. Under it was a simple sentence: My daughter must have the freedom to choose the future of this place.
"Last week," Raymond continued, "a sale agreement appeared. It says you transferred your voting rights to Preston and approved the sale of the maternity service to Northstar Medical Holdings. Your signature is on it."
"I never signed it."
"I know. The notarization bears the name of Judith Mercer."
Emily waited for the rest.
"Judith Mercer died two years ago," Raymond said. "And when my lawyer requested the original trust certificates from the vault this morning..."
May you like
His phone rang. He listened without blinking.
"...they were gone."
