I stared at the phone in my hand, my finger hovering over the contact for Mercy General Hospital. After a sleepless night reviewing my journal entries and listening to the recording countless times, I'd made my decision. I needed proof—irrefutable evidence of what Dorian and Delilah had done to me.
"Mercy General Hospital, how may I direct your call?" The receptionist's cheerful voice jolted me from my thoughts.
"Yes, I'd like to schedule an appointment to request my complete medical records," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "All treatment history and procedure documentation."
"Your name?"
"Natalie Simmons."
There was a pause, then the sound of typing. "I see you're a patient of Dr. Chen's fertility clinic. Let me connect you with our records department."
A moment later, a different voice came on the line. "Records department, this is Janet."
"I need to request my complete medical file," I repeated. "I'm considering a second opinion at another fertility clinic."
"Of course, Mrs. Simmons. We'll need you to fill out some paperwork. Would tomorrow at 10 AM work for you?"
"That would be fine."
"Excellent. Please bring your ID and insurance information."
I hung up, my heart racing. The first step had been surprisingly easy.
---
The next morning, I arrived at Mercy General Hospital fifteen minutes early. The reception area looked different somehow—the same cheerful colors and comfortable seating, but now I saw it through new eyes. How many other patients had been manipulated here? How deep did this conspiracy go?
"Mrs. Simmons?" A young clerk with a nervous smile approached me. "I have your file ready, but there's a... slight issue."
My stomach tightened. "What kind of issue?"
"Your assigned nurse, Delilah Ward, needs to authorize the release of certain treatment protocols." She shifted uncomfortably. "Hospital policy requires her approval for detailed procedure documentation."
Of course. Delilah. The name sent a chill down my spine.
"I see," I said calmly. "And why is that?"
The clerk's eyes darted around, not meeting mine. "It's... standard procedure for complex fertility cases."
Before I could respond, I heard familiar footsteps behind me. The scent of jasmine perfume reached me before her voice did.
"Natalie! What a surprise."
I turned slowly, coming face to face with Delilah Ward. Her smile was perfectly practiced—concerned, professional, caring. Everything I'd once believed about her.
"Delilah," I nodded, my voice neutral. "I'm here for my medical records."
"Of course," she said, her eyes searching my face. "But why do you need such detailed files? Is something wrong?"
Something in her tone—a subtle challenge, perhaps—made my blood boil. But I kept my expression calm.
"I'm considering a second opinion," I said simply.
Delilah's smile faltered slightly. "A second opinion? But Dr. Chen is the best fertility specialist in the city."
"Still," I replied, "after fifteen failed attempts, I think it's reasonable to explore other options."
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Natalie, you know how these things work. Sometimes it takes time. You can't lose faith now."
"I haven't lost faith," I said, meeting her gaze steadily. "I'm simply exercising my rights as a patient."
"As the patient," she emphasized, "you need to trust the process we've established."
"As the patient," I countered, "I have legal rights to my own medical records."
Delilah's professional mask slipped for just a moment—a flash of something harder in her eyes before she recovered.
"Of course," she said smoothly. "But some of these procedures are... sensitive. Perhaps we could discuss this privately?"
"I'd prefer to handle this officially," I replied. "Through proper channels."
Her smile tightened. "Natalie, are you... concerned about something specific?"
I reached into my bag and pulled out a copy of my latest medical bill. "Actually, yes. I've been doing some research."
Delilah's hand instinctively adjusted her medical badge—a nervous gesture I'd never noticed before.
"These procedure codes," I said, pointing to the document. "They don't match standard IVF protocols."
Her face paled slightly. "Different facilities use different coding systems."
"And this notation here?" I tapped the paper. "About hormone suppression therapy that Dr. Chen never mentioned to me?"
Delilah's fingers moved to her badge again, adjusting it unnecessarily. "Sometimes doctors use different terminology in official documentation."
"Is that so?" I leaned forward slightly. "And what about the medication that was administered during my fifth treatment? The one that's contraindicated for fertility patients?"
The color drained from her face completely. Her fingers fumbled with her badge as her eyes darted toward the exit.
"Natalie," she began, her voice suddenly unsteady, "maybe we should discuss this with Dorian present."
But it was too late. I could see the panic rising behind her eyes—and I knew I'd struck a nerve in their carefully constructed conspiracy.
