She began to pace the small room.

Her heels clicked against the linoleum, a sharp, rhythmic sound.

“I have a colleague who specializes in digital forensics,” she said. “We need the raw metadata from the hospital’s server.”

“Can Grant block that?” I asked.

“He has two board members in his pocket,” Margaret said. “But he does not own the IT staff.”

She stopped pacing and looked at her phone.

“The article is being picked up by the major networks,” she said. “They are running live segments on the Holloway custody battle.”

“He is turning my life into a circus,” I said.

“He wants to pressure you into a settlement,” Margaret said. “He wants you to sign away your parental rights in exchange for a quiet retraction.”

“I will never sign,” I said.

“I know,” Margaret said.

“Margaret,” I said, “Vanessa has a cousin who works in hospital administration.”

Margaret stopped. “Are you sure?”

“She mentioned it once,” I said. “Two years ago, at a dinner party. She joked about how easy it was to get VIP treatment here.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed.