Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
RILEY
I pause outside room 314, taking a deep breath as I collect my thoughts. The familiar scent of antiseptic and the soft beeping of monitors bring a strange sense of comfort, a temporary escape from the weight of the world beyond these hospital walls.
Pushing open the door, I force a smile as I approach Mrs. Henderson's bedside. "Good morning, how are we feeling today?" My voice is steady, soothing, even as my mind races with thoughts of Nate and the chaos that threatens to consume us.
As I check her vitals and adjust her IV, something catches my eye. A discrepancy in her chart, a medication that doesn't align with her diagnosis. My heart begins to race as I flip through the pages, noticing more inconsistencies.
"Dr. Davis?" A soft voice interrupts my thoughts. I look up to see Jenny, one of our newer nurses, hovering in the doorway. Her eyes dart nervously around the room before settling on me. "Can I speak with you privately?"
I nod, following her out into the hallway, my mind still reeling from what I've just discovered.
"What is it, Jenny?" I ask, keeping my voice low.
She takes a shaky breath. "I... I've noticed some things. Irregularities in patient care, procedures that don't make sense. I thought I was imagining it at first, but..." Her voice trails off.
My pulse quickens. "Go on," I encourage gently.
"I overheard Dr. Blackwell talking with someone on the phone. They mentioned something about 'cooking the books' and 'inflating numbers.’ Dr. Davis, I think there's something really wrong going on here."
I feel a mix of dread and excitement coursing through me. This could be the break we've been waiting for.
"Jenny, thank you for telling me this. It's incredibly brave of you," I say, squeezing her arm reassuringly. "I need you to write down everything you've seen and heard. Can you do that for me?"
She nods, determination replacing the fear in her eyes. "I can do better than that. I've been keeping a log, documenting everything that seemed off. I'll get it to you by the end of my shift."
As Jenny hurries off, I lean against the wall, my mind racing. With Jenny's additional testimony, we might finally have enough evidence.
I spend the rest of my rounds in a daze, carefully checking each patient's chart for similar discrepancies. By lunchtime, I've compiled a substantial list of questionable procedures and treatments.
In the break room, I pull out my phone, my fingers hovering over Nate's number. I want nothing more than to call him, to share this breakthrough. But I know we need to be careful. Instead, I send a cryptic text.
RILEY
Found some interesting reading material. Can't wait to discuss it with you later.
As I'm about to put my phone away, it buzzes with a response from Nate:
NATE
Sounds intriguing. Our usual spot, 8 PM?
I smile, feeling a flutter of anticipation.
RILEY
I'll be there
I type back.
The rest of my shift passes in a blur of nervous energy and anticipation. As I'm gathering my things to leave, Jenny appears at my side, pressing a USB drive into my hand.
"Everything's on here," she whispers. "Be careful, Dr. Davis."
I nod, slipping the drive into my pocket. "You too, Jenny. Thank you."
As I head to the records room, my mind is a whirlwind of emotion. I think about Nate, about the long road ahead of us. But for the first time in weeks, I feel a glimmer of hope.
We're close. I can feel it.
My fingers tremble as I insert Jenny's USB drive into my laptop. The weight of what I'm about to do crashes over me like a tidal wave. Am I really capable of handling this? What if I mess up and put everyone at risk?
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Nate's face flashes in my mind, his eyes full of love and confidence in me. I think of my patients, innocent people being exploited by a system meant to protect them. No, I can't let my doubts hold me back. Not now.
With renewed determination, I start copying the files from Jenny's drive. As the progress bar inches forward, I pull up the hospital's patient database. My heart races as I begin downloading records, searching for patterns that match the discrepancies I found earlier.
Suddenly, the door to the records room swings open. I freeze, my blood turning to ice as Dr. Thompson walks in.
"Dr. Davis?" Her eyebrows raise in surprise. "What are you doing here so late?"
For a moment, I can't breathe. This is it. I'm caught. My career is over.
But then I see something in Dr. Thompson's eyes. A flicker of... understanding?
"I... I'm just reviewing some patient files," I stammer, my mind racing for a plausible excuse.
Dr. Thompson closes the door behind her, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You've noticed it too, haven't you?"
I nod, hardly daring to hope. "You know about it?"
She sighs, running a hand through her graying hair. "I've had my suspicions for months. But I never had enough proof to do anything about it."
Relief floods through me, followed quickly by a surge of hope. "I think I might have that proof now," I say, gesturing to my laptop.
Dr. Thompson's eyes widen. "Show me."
For the next hour, we pore over the files together. Dr. Thompson's medical expertise helps me understand the full scope of the fraud. It's worse than I imagined.
"This is big, Riley," she says, her face grim. "Really big. And dangerous. Are you sure you want to pursue this?"
I think of Nate, of the risks he's taking. Of my patients, suffering needlessly. "I have to," I say firmly. "We have to stop this before more people get hurt."
Dr. Thompson nods, a look of respect in her eyes. "Then count me in. I'll help however I can."
As we finish copying the last of the files, a sense of urgency grips me. "We need to act fast," I say. "Every day we wait, more patients are at risk."
"Agreed," Dr. Thompson says. "But we need to be smart about this. One wrong move and we could lose everything."
As we leave the records room, the weight of what we've discovered settles on my shoulders. I may not have all the answers, I may not be perfect, but I have something powerful on my side: the truth.
As I leave the hospital, I check my watch and realize with a pang of guilt that I've missed my weekly family video call... again. The tradition started when I left our small town outside Portland for medical school, a way to stay connected to the nurturing environment that shaped me.
My parents, a high school teacher and a librarian, had always emphasized the importance of family and community. Now, between my grueling shifts and the investigation, I've been neglecting the people who matter most.
I pull out my phone, seeing three missed calls from my mom. Without hesitation, I dial her number, feeling a mix of homesickness and guilt. The sound of her voice instantly transports me back to our cozy living room, where we'd spend evenings discussing books and my grandmother's nursing stories.
"Riley? Is that you, sweetheart?" My mom's voice is a mixture of relief and concern, reminding me of the stark contrast between my sheltered upbringing and the harsh realities I now face daily.
"Hey, Mom. I'm so sorry I missed our call. Can we still do a video chat with everyone? I really need to see your faces."
Twenty minutes later, I sink into the soft cushions of the couch in Nate’s penthouse, the glow of my laptop screen illuminating my face as I wait for the video call to connect. My heart flutters with anticipation, a longing for the comfort and familiarity of my family's voices and faces.
The screen flickers to life, and I'm greeted by the warm, loving smiles of my parents and brother. "Riley, sweetheart!" My mom exclaims, her eyes crinkling with joy. "We were starting to forget what you looked like!"
A wave of guilt washes over me, but it's quickly replaced by the warmth of their love. "I know, I'm the worst. I've missed you all so much."
As we catch up, sharing stories and laughter, I feel the tension of the past weeks slowly melting away. I carefully sidestep the details of the investigation, instead focusing on the everyday moments of hospital life that I know will make them laugh or grimace.
"Sounds like you're working yourself to the bone, kiddo," my dad says, his brow furrowed with concern. "You're not forgetting to take care of yourself, are you?"
I assure them I'm doing fine, touched by their concern. As the call winds down, my brother gives me a knowing look. "You've got that fire in your eyes, sis. Whatever you're up to, I know you're going to knock it out of the park. You're a Davis, after all."
As I set my laptop aside, the warmth of the family call fades, replaced by the cold reality of our situation. I glance down at myself, remembering the teasing nickname my college friends gave me—Bookworm Riley.
I walk to the full-length mirror in the bedroom, studying my reflection.
What am I doing?
I whisper to myself. “Nate's this brilliant, gorgeous tech mogul, and I'm just... me. A doctor who'd rather curl up with a medical journal than hit the gym.”
My fingers trace the outline of my hips, fuller than the society-standard ideal. I think of Nate, his chiseled features and confident demeanor. A small voice in my head whispers, “Are you really enough for him?”
The weight of our investigation and the danger we're facing, seem to amplify my insecurities. I've always been more comfortable in scrubs than evening gowns, more at ease in an operating room than a fancy gala.
“What if I'm not cut out for this?” I mutter, hugging myself tightly.
What if I'm not strong enough, smart enough, or... attractive enough to stand beside him through all of this?
I shake my head, trying to dispel these thoughts. But the seed of doubt has been planted, and I can't help but wonder if Nate sees these flaws too. If one day, he'll realize that the bookish, curvy doctor by his side isn't what he really wants or needs.
I have to bury these fears. We have bigger battles to fight.
I send a quick text to Nate.
RILEY
Just had a great call with the family. Can’t wait to show you what I got today .
His reply comes almost instantly.
NATE
Glad to hear it. Get some rest, warrior, and I ordered your favorite. I am on my way.