Hannah nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Even if they take my license. I can’t stay silent anymore.”
Then she added quietly, “Be careful. Mark kept saying, ‘The father is on board.’ Like you didn’t matter.”
When I got home, I opened our banking app.
A deposit had appeared four days after Grace died. The sender’s name read “Northbridge Claims.”
Then there was a large mortgage payment.
Then a transfer to an account labeled “Daniel – Portfolio.”
Just his name. Not mine.
That night, I walked into Daniel’s office and closed the door behind me. My phone was already recording in my pocket.
“Tell me the truth,” I said. “Did the hospital pay you to keep quiet?”
Daniel’s eyes flicked to the door and back to me. “Where is this coming from?”
I placed the flash drive on his desk. “From the hospital’s footage of that day.”
He went silent.
“What did you see?” he asked.
“All of it,” I said.
For a moment, it looked like he might crack.
Then his expression hardened.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By lying?” I asked. “By signing away our daughter’s truth? By hiding money in your name?”
