Chapter 3 - The Hospital Code
We drove straight to St. Matthew’s Hospital.
Ben sat in front while Maya stayed beside me in the back of the utility truck. Every contraction made her watch tighten.
At the emergency entrance, a nurse rushed out with a wheelchair.
I refused it.
“I need my own doctor’s records before anyone touches me.”
Maya supported my elbow.
“You may not have time.”
Inside, monitors were attached to my belly. A resident physician introduced herself as Dr. Nina Cole. She examined the burns, then looked at the fetal heart tracing.
“The baby is under stress, but stable for now.”
For now.
My goal became finding out what Dr. Ward had done.
Maya accessed the hospital’s patient portal using the emergency authorization I signed. My normal records appeared: blood pressure, scans, lab results.
Then she clicked a hidden billing code attached to every prenatal visit.
R47-9.
Dr. Cole frowned.
“That isn’t an obstetric billing code.”
She searched the internal hospital directory.
R47-9 belonged to the behavioral research department.
My prenatal appointments had been quietly charged to a private maternal stress study.
I had never consented to a study.
A hospital administrator named Paul Denton arrived with two security guards.
He smiled without warmth.
“There must be a coding error.”
Maya held up the encrypted spreadsheet.
“Then why does the study list home surveillance and controlled heat exposure?”
Denton’s expression did not change.
“I’ll need that device.”
“No,” I said.
He looked at me for the first time.
“Mrs. Hayes, you’re exhausted. Let the hospital protect you from misunderstandings.”
The same words Luke used whenever I questioned him.
Protect you.
Misunderstanding.
I pulled the fetal monitor strap aside and stood.
Dr. Cole stepped between me and the guards.
“She is my patient now.”
Denton’s smile disappeared.
He ordered security to clear the room.
Dr. Cole refused.
Then the fetal monitor emitted a sharp alarm.
The baby’s heartbeat dropped.
Everyone moved at once.
While Dr. Cole repositioned me and called for oxygen, Maya photographed the screen. My heartbeat pounded louder than the machine.
After ninety seconds, the baby’s rate recovered.
Denton used the panic to reach for the storage device.
Ben caught his wrist.
A folded slip of paper fell from Denton’s jacket.
It was a pharmacy receipt.
The medication listed was misoprostol.
The patient name was mine.
The pickup signature belonged to Helen Hayes.
Dr. Cole stared at the receipt.
“At eight months pregnant, this could induce labor.”
Denton finally lost his composure.
“That prescription was canceled.”
Maya turned the receipt over.
On the back, in Dr. Ward’s handwriting, were four words:
Garage method failed. Use medication.
May you like
I believed the hospital would protect me—but its own administrator was carrying instructions for the next attempt.
The prescription trail led us to the one person who had been watching Helen longer than anyone knew.
