Chapter 2 - The Deleted File
Raymond arrived in the examination room less than five minutes later.
He was carrying a tablet.
His expression told Emily the answer was worse than she expected.
“The deletion attempt came from an executive account.”
“Preston?”
“No.”
Raymond placed the tablet on the table.
“His father.”
Emily stared at him.
Charles Whitmore had always treated hospitals like cathedrals built in his honor.
He chaired charity dinners.
He posed beside premature infants.
He gave speeches about medical ethics.
“Why would Charles be deleting my records?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Emily looked at Raymond.
“You know more than you’re telling me.”
Raymond did not answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“Uncle Ray.”
He sat beside her.
“Your mother made me promise something before she died.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“That I would never drag you into the Saint Claire side of the family business unless you asked.”
“I’m asking.”
Raymond looked toward the fetal monitor.
Then back at her.
“Your mother did not leave you a small trust.”
Emily waited.
“She left you voting control over her portion of Saint Claire Health Holdings.”
Emily blinked.
“I receive distributions.”
“Yes.”
“I thought that was inheritance income.”
“It is.”
“How much do I own?”
“Twenty-three percent.”
Emily stared at him.
Raymond continued.
“My thirty-one percent and your twenty-three percent form the controlling family block.”
Emily almost laughed from disbelief.
“Preston married someone who owns twenty-three percent of the company supporting his hospital?”
Raymond’s gaze hardened.
“I am beginning to believe that is exactly why he married you.”
The words struck harder than Vanessa’s heel.
Emily looked away.
“No.”
“I hope I’m wrong.”
“You were at our wedding.”
“I was.”
“You liked him.”
“I tolerated him because you loved him.”
Emily’s eyes filled before she could stop them.
She hated that.
Not crying.
Hated giving Preston another piece of her heart even while he was destroying it.
Dr. Pierce quietly left the room.
Raymond waited.
Emily wiped her cheek.
“What was Charles deleting?”
Raymond tapped the screen.
“A document uploaded three months ago.”
“What document?”
“A beneficiary amendment request.”
Emily frowned.
“To what?”
“Your Saint Claire shares.”
Silence filled the room.
Emily’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach.
“Beneficiary to whom?”
Raymond looked directly at her.
“Preston.”
Emily stopped breathing.
Raymond enlarged the signature.
Her name appeared at the bottom.
EMILY CLAIRE WHITMORE.
“That’s not my signature.”
“I know.”
“I never signed this.”
“I know.”
“Then how did it get into the system?”
“That is what our lawyers are determining.”
Emily stared at the document.
Then she noticed the witness signature.
Vanessa Cross.
Her voice became almost inaudible.
“She witnessed it?”
“Yes.”
“But she supposedly met Preston six months ago.”
Raymond’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s what Preston told you?”
“Yes.”
Raymond swiped to another file.
A photograph appeared.
It had been taken at a Whitmore Foundation fundraiser.
Preston stood near the background.
Vanessa stood beside Charles.
The date was four years earlier.
Two months before Emily met Preston.
Her body went cold.
“They knew each other.”
Raymond nodded.
Emily stared at the photograph.
Her marriage suddenly felt like a room in which someone had switched off all the lights.
Every memory became suspicious.
The accidental meeting at the bookstore.
Preston asking about her mother.
His sudden fascination with nonprofit healthcare.
His father insisting on a large wedding.
Charles encouraging Emily to take Preston’s surname.
“Was I selected?”
Raymond said nothing.
Emily turned toward him.
“Was I selected?”
“We don’t know.”
A knock sounded.
One of Raymond’s security officers entered.
“Sir, Mr. Whitmore is demanding his attorney.”
“Let him call ten.”
“There’s another issue.”
The officer held out a sealed evidence pouch.
Inside was Vanessa’s phone.
“She tried to destroy this in the conference room.”
Emily stared at it.
The screen was cracked.
“Why?”
The officer looked at Raymond.
“We recovered one message before the device locked.”
He turned the screen.
It was from Charles Whitmore.
DO NOT LET EMILY REACH RAYMOND.
Underneath was another message.
IF SHE FINDS OUT ABOUT THE BABY, EVERYTHING COLLAPSES.
Emily’s hand went to her stomach.
“The baby?”
May you like
Raymond’s face changed.
For the first time that afternoon, her uncle looked genuinely afraid.
