Call an ambulance right now, Marcus—my daughter’s water just broke on your mother’s marble floor! I screamed, kneeling over Maya as fluid flooded her silk dress.
I found Hank Burke at a quiet diner a few blocks from the hospital, the kind of place where the coffee was strong and nobody paid much attention to a woman in sensible shoes and a blazer. He nodded to the empty seat opposite him.
“You look like you’ve been through a war,” Hank observed, stirring his coffee.
“I have been,” I said, sliding my handbag across the table. “They put me on administrative leave. Revoked my badge. Marcus’s attorney sister filed for emergency guardianship, claiming I have dementia.”
Hank raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something assessing in his gaze. “That’s aggressive.”
“It’s desperate,” I corrected. “But they won’t stop me. I have this.”
I unzipped my handbag, revealing the small, portable cold transport box I’d secured at the hospital. I carefully opened it, revealing the clear vial containing Maya’s placental tissue sample.
Hank leaned in, his expression turning serious. He examined the vial, then looked up at me. “This is what you managed to pull from Albright?”
“It is,” I confirmed. “He tried to deep-six the entire intake, but I got this one out before he could sterilize the workspace.”
A slight, almost imperceptible nod from Hank. “Smart move. Standard hospital labs would be compromised. I’ve got a contact at the state public health lab in Atlanta. Completely independent. They can run a full micro-array scan, genetic sequencing. Expedited.”
“Can they prove anything from this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The hope in my chest felt fragile.
Hank placed the box gently back on the table. “If there are non-standard compounds, experimental markers, anything scrubbed from official registries… this will find it.” He paused. “It’s a long shot, but it’s the only shot we have right now.”
He picked up the box. “I’ll arrange the courier. Keep your phone on. This could be our turning point.”
As he left, the diner suddenly felt colder, despite the warmth of my untouched tea. The weight of proving Marcus’s fraud, and clearing my own name, now rested entirely on that small vial.
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