Chapter 6 - Room 314The hospital archives were nearly seventy years old.
Room 314 had been renovated twice.
But the records remained.
Detective Morgan spent the next day tracing them.
My mother's final admission was listed.
Claire's birth was listed.
And then something far more disturbing appeared.
Six other women had been admitted to the same hospital under Voss family insurance.
All had died within months.
All had records that contained suspicious discrepancies.
Missing pages.
Altered signatures.
Doctors who had left the hospital.
Nurses who had suddenly resigned.
It wasn't a coincidence.
It was a pattern.
A very expensive pattern.
Detective Morgan called the state prosecutor.
By evening, warrants were being prepared.
But Victor was already fighting back.
His attorney released a statement.
It described me as unstable.
Emotionally disturbed.
Possibly dangerous.
It claimed Victor had acted in self-defense.
The media picked it up.
My face appeared on television.
A blurred image of me leaving the hospital.
The headline:
PREGNANT WOMAN ACCUSES WEALTHY HUSBAND OF ASSAULT.
Then the internet turned against me.
Comments flooded social media.
Attention seeker.
Gold digger.
Psychotic wife.
I stared at the screen.
It felt like watching my life being rewritten in real time.
Then Detective Morgan walked in.
"Don't read it."
"It's working."
"What?"
"They're using the narrative they created."
Alex sat beside me.
"They've been preparing this for months."
Detective Morgan nodded.
"We've discovered something else."
"What?"
"Three people connected to Victor have deleted financial records since the arrest."
"Who?"
"Helena. Raul. And someone at the hospital."
My blood ran cold.
"The doctor?"
"No."
"Then who?"
"A records administrator."
He placed a file on the table.
Her name was Margaret Cole.
She had accessed my file seventeen times.
After the assault.
Before the assault.
And on the night my mother died.
"Why?"
"We don't know."
Alex frowned.
"Can we bring her in?"
"We're trying."
At 11:40 that night, Margaret called Detective Morgan herself.
She wanted to meet.
Alone.
She arrived at a police station at midnight.
Her face was pale.
She was carrying a folder.
"I can't do this anymore."
Detective Morgan closed the interview room door.
"What do you know?"
Margaret placed the folder on the table.
"I've been changing medical records for the Voss family for eight years."
Nobody spoke.
"Why?"
"Money."
"Who ordered it?"
"Richard."
"What did you change?"
"Everything they asked."
She started crying.
"Pregnancy records. Injury reports. Psychiatric notes."
My hands trembled.
"Did you alter my mother's records?"
She looked at me.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I was told she was unstable."
"Was she?"
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
"Then why did you say she was?"
"Because Richard threatened my children."
The room went silent.
Margaret opened the folder.
Inside were copies of original records.
My mother's real medical history.
No heart disease.
No psychiatric disorder.
No suicidal behavior.
Then Margaret handed over one more document.
A surgical report.
It belonged to Claire.
The cause of death had been recorded as suicide.
But the original report said something else.
"Multiple blunt-force injuries."
I stared.
"She was murdered."
Margaret nodded.
"Yes."
Then she whispered:
"And your husband was there."
My stomach twisted.
"Victor?"
"He was seventeen."
The room seemed to spin.
"How do you know?"
Margaret pointed to another document.
A witness statement.
Signed by Claire.
My hands shook as I read it.
The statement had been written three days before her death.
Claire claimed Victor had threatened her.
She claimed Richard had controlled her finances.
She claimed Helena had followed her.
And then she wrote one final sentence.
"If I die, it was not suicide."
I looked at Detective Morgan.
"Why wasn't this found before?"
Margaret lowered her eyes.
"Because Richard paid the detective."
Alex swore.
Margaret wasn't finished.
"There is one more thing."
"What?"
"The witness who gave this statement was not Claire."
My blood turned cold.
"Who was it?"
May you like
Margaret looked at me.
"Your mother."
