Chapter 7: The Altered Pages
The heavy metal desk lamp hummed softly, casting a harsh yellow circle of light over the leather-bound ledger. Dr. Harrison pressed his palm flat against the heavy paper page, his thumb pointing directly at a series of numbers written in dark blue ink.
"Look here," Dr. Harrison said, his voice dropping to a somber whisper. "This is the intake log for Delivery Suite B, dated two nights ago at precisely 1:15 AM."
David leaned over the desk, squinting at the handwritten entries. Next to Chloe Vance’s name, the infant ID number had been recorded in clear, precise strokes: ID-8842-X. But right beneath that entry, a diagonal line had been drawn through the number with a thick black marker, and a different number—*ID-8845-Y*—had been scrawled over it in a completely different handwriting.
"That's not my handwriting," Nurse Marcus said instantly, leaning in closer. "And that's not standard protocol for a correction. A correction requires a counter-signature and a timestamp stamp from the attending head nurse."
Chloe stared at the altered page, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the desk. "Someone did that on purpose," she whispered, the realization dawning on her with terrifying clarity. "This wasn't a mix-up in the dark. Someone changed the numbers intentionally."
Sarah felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She clutched her hospital gown tighter around her shoulders, feeling the warmth drain entirely from her face. "Why would anyone do that? Who would want to switch two newborns?"
Dr. Harrison didn't answer immediately. He looked slowly from Sarah to Chloe, his expression troubled. "I wish I had an answer for you, Mrs. Miller. But in my thirty years of medicine, I have never seen a deliberate tampering of infant identification logs without an external motive."
"What kind of motive?" David demanded, his voice hardening into a dangerous edge. "Are we talking about trafficking? Are we talking about a black-market adoption ring operating inside this hospital?"
"We cannot jump to conclusions," Dr. Harrison cautioned, though his lack of conviction was glaringly obvious. "However, security footage will tell us who had access to this archive room and the delivery station between midnight and three in the morning."
Leo tugged on David’s dark purple shirt, looking up with big, frightened eyes. "Dad, I want to go back upstairs. I want to see June's room. Maybe she left something behind."
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David looked down at his son, feeling a sudden surge of guilt for dragging the eight-year-old through this grim underground investigation. He knelt down, putting a gentle hand on Leo’s shoulder. "Go with Nurse Marcus back to the waiting room, buddy. We’ll be right up."
"No," Leo said firmly, shaking his head. "I'm staying with you. If someone stole my sister, I want to help catch them."
