*Evelyn Vaughan, RN.*

I ran my finger over the looping handwriting.

“Evelyn Vaughan,” I muttered.

“Who is that?” Martha asked, leaning closer.

“She was the admitting nurse the night my mother was admitted,” I said.

“She signed this receipt for my mother’s personal belongings before they transferred her.”

“The official logs are sealed, but she might still be alive.”

“If she remembers that night, she can testify to what they did to my mother’s records.”

My phone buzzed again, interrupting us.

It was an automated alert from Metropolitan Hospital’s billing portal.

My credit card on file had been declined for the monthly room deposit.

The amount was twelve thousand dollars.

A second notification popped up immediately after.

It was an email from the chief administrator of Metropolitan Hospital, demanding an urgent meeting tomorrow morning.

They wanted to discuss Helen’s continued placement in the intensive care unit.

“They’re already squeezing me,” I said, my breath catching in my throat.

“Daniel didn’t even wait for the court date.”

I stood up and grabbed my coat from the back of the chair.

“Where are you going?” Martha asked, her eyes wide with worry.