Chapter 5 - The Hidden Safe
The surgical nurses immediately stepped back from the bed, legally forbidden from touching my daughter.
"You can't do this! She will lose her ovary if she doesn't get this surgery today!" I screamed at the process server.
The woman simply turned on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving me drowning in a bureaucratic nightmare.
Dr. Evans rushed in minutes later, his face pale with frustration as he read the court injunction.
"My hands are completely tied by the legal department, Elena," he whispered apologetically.
"You have exactly twenty-four hours to get this order overturned in front of a judge, or the torsion will become permanent and the tissue will die."
I kissed Chloe's forehead, promising her I would fix this, and begged Dr. Evans to keep her comfortable with pain medication.
I borrowed a nurse's old sedan because I knew Mark had likely canceled the insurance on my minivan.
I drove back to our suburban house like a maniac, praying that Mark was currently at his downtown office gloating with his lawyers.
The driveway was empty, and the house was eerily silent when I unlocked the front door.
I marched straight into Mark's locked home office, using a heavy brass bookend to smash the doorknob until it shattered.
I desperately needed to find the original hospital discharge papers from five weeks ago to prove he knew about the tumor.
I tore through his filing cabinets, dumping hundreds of folders onto the hardwood floor, but found nothing.
Frustrated, I kicked his heavy oak desk, causing a small, decorative rug in the corner of the room to slide out of place.
Beneath the rug, perfectly flush with the floorboards, was a digital steel safe I had never seen before in my life.
I dropped to my knees and punched in his mother's birthdate, followed by our anniversary, but the red error light flashed twice.
My hands shook as I typed in Chloe's social security number, holding my breath as the keypad beeped loudly.
A heavy mechanical click echoed through the room, and the heavy steel door popped open.
I reached inside, expecting to find the hidden medical records, but instead, my fingers brushed against a thick, glossy folder.
I pulled it out and opened it, my blood instantly turning to ice in my veins.
It was not a medical file at all.
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It was a comprehensive, two-million-dollar life insurance policy taken out on Chloe's life.
The ink on the signature line was completely fresh, dated exactly five weeks ago, the very same day he canceled her follow-up appointment.
