Chapter 7 - The Whistleblower
The corrupt judge had essentially issued a legal kidnapping order on behalf of my billionaire husband.
If Grant's men found us, they had the full authority of the local police to rip Eli right out of my arms.
I wrapped a thick blanket around my son and carried him toward the emergency fire exit at the back of the ward.
We bypassed the main elevators completely, descending three flights of concrete stairs to the hospital's loading dock.
I managed to flag down a passing medical supply driver who agreed to let us hide in the back of his van.
He dropped us off at a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city, far away from Grant's immediate sphere of influence.
I paid for the room with the small stack of emergency cash I always kept hidden inside my phone case.
Once Eli was settled on the scratchy bedspread watching cartoons, I opened my laptop and connected to a public network.
I needed to expose the black market blood ring immediately, but the local police were clearly in Grant's pocket.
I navigated to the official tip portal for the Federal Bureau of Investigation's white-collar crime division.
I composed a detailed message outlining the embezzlement, the fake medical trust, and the illegal sale of medical supplies.
I attached the forged medical records and the operating room manifests detailing the foreign diplomat's illegal surgery.
I hit send, watching the progress bar crawl slowly across the screen as the massive files uploaded to the federal database.
Just as the confirmation screen appeared, my cell phone rang with an unknown restricted number.
I hesitated for a moment before answering, pressing the phone cautiously to my ear without speaking.
"Mrs. Whitmore, this is Special Agent Carter with the FBI," a deep, professional voice announced.
I let out a massive sigh of relief, thanking God that someone at the agency was actually monitoring the secure portal.
"I just received your file dump, and we have been investigating Whitmore Heart Center for six months," Agent Carter explained.
He told me they needed an inside witness to testify against the board of directors to secure the federal warrants.
"I will testify to whatever you need, just promise me you will protect my son from my husband," I pleaded.
Agent Carter promised to dispatch a tactical protection team to my exact location within the hour.
He asked me to verify a few details from the ledger, specifically regarding the doctor who had forged Sophie's records.
I opened the file again, locating the signature of Dr. Aris Thorne, the chief of pediatric surgery.
"Dr. Thorne authorized all of the fake procedures," I confirmed, reading the name aloud to the federal agent.
A heavy, unsettling silence fell over the phone line for several seconds.
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"That is going to complicate our grand jury proceedings, Mrs. Whitmore," Agent Carter finally replied, his voice grave.
"Local police just found Dr. Thorne dead in his luxury apartment from an apparent, highly suspicious suicide."
