Forced to Kneel Before Her Surgeon Husband’s Mistress in a $20M Hospital Scandal, Newcomer Dr. Clara Oakwood Splashes Boiling Water, Freezes Family Funds, and Exposes a Lethal Cover-Up
The next morning, the hospital hummed with its usual frantic energy. I walked the corridors, seeing Julian’s face on promotional posters, knowing the truth lurking beneath his polished image. The thought churned in my stomach.
I knew who held the key to those files: Wayne Kistler, the hospital’s insurance claims adjuster. He was Eleanor’s loyal bulldog, notorious for burying adverse events. Confronting him directly would be a dead end. I needed to be subtle.
My eyes fell on Nurse Mia, a junior nurse with bright, earnest eyes, diligently sorting charts at the nursing station. She was new, eager, and completely unsuspecting. A perfect, unwitting accomplice.
I approached her, a casual smile masking my true intent. “Nurse Mia, a quick favor.”
She looked up, startled. “Dr. Oakwood! Of course.”
“I’m reviewing some older patient records for a personal research project,” I explained, fabricating a study on long-term post-operative care. “Specifically, I need the unredacted malpractice logs from the past three years. The ones usually kept in risk management, separate from the standard patient files.”
Mia’s brow furrowed slightly. “Unredacted? Aren’t those usually… restricted?”
“They are, but I have approval from Dr. Davies for this specific research,” I lied smoothly, invoking a respected, elderly surgeon who was rarely in the office anymore. “Wayne Kistler usually holds them. He’s often too busy, so if you could just pick them up, it would save me hours.”
Mia nodded, her hesitancy quickly dissolving into a desire to be helpful. “Oh, okay! I can do that. Dr. Davies’ research sounds very important.”
“It is,” I confirmed, a knot forming in my stomach. I hated using her, but the stakes were too high. “Just bring them straight back to my office. Don’t let them out of your sight.”
An hour later, a soft knock came at my office door. Mia stood there, slightly out of breath, a thick manila folder clutched in her hands.
“Dr. Oakwood, I got them!” she exclaimed, relief washing over her face. “Mr. Kistler wasn’t too happy, but he was on the phone, so he just waved me off.”
My heart leaped. He hadn’t even checked.
“Excellent, Mia,” I said, taking the heavy folder. My fingers brushed over the label: “Confidential Malpractice Claims – Internal Audit.” These were the files Kistler had been hiding from federal auditors, the real records of Julian’s disastrous surgical track record.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I added, a genuine tremor in my voice. She smiled, oblivious to the storm she had just helped unleash. The file felt like a ticking time bomb in my hands.
More Stories
+ There are no comments
Add yours