“He put them under something I actually signed,” I said.
Daniel’s expression tightened.
“That is possible.
The hospital will preserve the original files and access logs.”
Rachel picked up my phone.
“We call the police.”
“Not yet,” I said.
She stared at me.
“Catherine, he forged your signature and gave his mistress access to your medical records.”
“I know.”
My voice sounded different to me—quieter than before, but no longer weak.
“I want him to come here believing I know nothing.”
Rachel’s anger shifted into understanding.
Daniel did not encourage confrontation.
He explained that a hospital privacy officer was already on the way and that security could remain nearby.
He told me I did not have to see Michael at all.
But I needed to hear what he would say when he thought the only evidence against him was an unanswered phone call.
At 5:03 a.m., Michael finally entered my room.
He wore the same charcoal suit he had worn to work the previous morning.
His collar was open.
His hair was disordered, and the sharp floral scent of Amber’s perfume clung to his jacket.
He carried no flowers.
He had not even brought the overnight bag we packed together.
His gaze moved from Rachel to Daniel and then to the baby in my arms.
“So it’s over?” he asked.
Not How are you?
Not Is she healthy?
Not Can I hold my daughter?
So it’s over?
Rachel took one step toward him, but I stopped her with a look.
Michael noticed the phone on my bed.
“You created quite a scene tonight,” he said.
“Amber is extremely upset.”
I nearly laughed.
“Amber is upset?”
“You called repeatedly while we were discussing confidential work.”
“At three in the morning?” Rachel said.
Michael ignored her.
He approached my bed and glanced at our daughter as if examining something delivered to the wrong address.
“I told you I would come when I could.”
“You promised you would be here,” I said.
“I did not anticipate you going into labor early.”
“I was three days past my due date.”
His jaw tightened.
“This is exactly what Amber meant.
Every conversation becomes an argument with you.”
There it was again.
Her confidence living inside his mouth.
Behind Michael, Daniel stood near the counter with his arms folded.
He said nothing, but Michael seemed irritated by his presence.
“Who are you?” Michael demanded.
“The physician who delivered your daughter.”
Michael gave him a dismissive glance.
“Then I assume your work here is finished.”
Daniel’s expression did not change.
“My responsibility to my patient is not finished.”
