Chapter 3 - The Stolen Badge
I recognized the heavy gold earring the moment Gloria held it up in the harsh hospital light.
It belonged to my younger sister, Courtney.
My mother had bought those matching earrings for Courtney to wear specifically for her gender reveal party.
“My mother didn't come here alone,” I whispered, staring in absolute horror at the piece of jewelry.
“Courtney was standing right beside her in the dark.”
Kevin grabbed the earring from Gloria’s hand and held it up to the police officer.
“Is this enough physical evidence to get a warrant?” Kevin demanded aggressively.
The officer pulled an evidence bag from his belt and carefully dropped the earring inside.
“It places your sister at the scene of the crime, which gives us probable cause to bring them both in for questioning.”
The officer stepped out into the hallway to radio for backup to be sent to my mother’s address.
I sat back down on the edge of the recliner, pulling Brooklyn onto my lap.
My own mother and my own sister had conspired to kill my newborn baby just because I refused to buy a chocolate cake.
The absolute insanity of their entitlement made me feel physically sick to my stomach.
“How did they even get past the locked doors?” Kevin asked the head of security.
“The NICU requires a badge scan to enter after visiting hours are over.”
The security chief pulled a small tablet from his jacket and typed in a few commands.
“Let me check the digital access logs for this specific door at two in the morning,” he said.
We waited in tense silence as the screen loaded the security data.
The chief’s eyes widened slightly as he read the name attached to the badge scan.
“The door was unlocked using the ID badge of Dr. Marcus Sterling,” the chief announced.
Kevin and I looked at each other in complete shock.
Dr. Marcus Sterling was the head of neonatal surgery, and he was currently out of the country at a medical conference.
“Someone stole a senior doctor’s badge,” Gloria gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
“My mother doesn't know any doctors at this hospital,” I said, shaking my head in confusion.
“But Courtney’s fiancé works in the hospital administration office on the first floor,” Kevin realized, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Courtney’s fiancé, a man who always smiled politely at family dinners, had actively helped them bypass hospital security.
This was not a spontaneous act of angry retaliation.
This was a highly coordinated, premeditated attack involving three different members of my family.
Before I could even process the massive scale of this betrayal, there was a loud knock on the door frame.
A woman in a sharp gray suit stepped into the room, holding a thick manila folder.
She looked past the police officers, completely ignoring Kevin, and locked her stern eyes directly on me.
“Are you the mother of Rosalie and Brooklyn?” the woman asked in a cold, professional tone.
“Yes, I am,” I answered, standing up defensively.
“My name is Agent Miller with Child Protective Services,” she stated, opening her thick folder.
“We received an anonymous emergency tip claiming you are suffering from severe postpartum psychosis.”
“The caller stated you intentionally tampered with your own baby’s life support to gain sympathy from your husband.”
May you like
I felt the entire room begin to spin out of control.
“I am taking your six-year-old daughter into emergency state custody right now.”
