Chapter 4: The Secret Behind My Miscarriage
For three years, I had believed that losing my first pregnancy was the most painful thing that had ever happened to me.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether the tragedy itself had been another lie.
I stared at the photograph Rebecca had shown me.
My name appeared at the top of the document. Beneath it was the date of my miscarriage, followed by a signature that looked exactly like Marcus's.
"What is this?"" I whispered.
Rebecca placed her phone on the table.
"It's a medical authorization form.""
I looked up.
"Authorization for what?""
"That's what I was hoping you could tell me.""
I studied the document again.
There were several paragraphs of medical terminology, a hospital reference number, and a section labeled Patient Consent.
My eyes moved to the bottom.
Marcus's signature was there.
But something else caught my attention.
The document had been signed two days before I was admitted to the hospital.
Two days before I even knew something was wrong.
"Where did you get this?""
"From Marcus's apartment.""
I stared at her.
"You've been inside the apartment?""
"Yes. He gave me a key when I was pregnant. He said he wanted me to feel like I had somewhere safe to go.""
I swallowed.
"And you found this document there?""
"It was inside a folder in his desk. There were several other documents, too.""
"What other documents?""
Rebecca hesitated.
"Some of them had your name on them.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why didn't you give them to me immediately?""
"Because I didn't know what they meant. And honestly, I was afraid of what Marcus might do if he discovered I'd taken them.""
I looked at Daniel sleeping beside her.
"Did Marcus hurt you?""
"No. Not physically.""
She looked toward the window.
"But he has a way of making people believe they owe him something.""
I understood that sentence more than I wanted to.
Marcus had always been charming.
He remembered birthdays. He sent flowers. He knew exactly when to apologize and exactly how to make someone feel guilty for questioning him.
I had once considered those qualities signs of a wonderful husband.
Now I wondered how many people had been manipulated by them.
"Rebecca, what happened three years ago?""
She opened another photograph.
It showed a printed email.
The sender was Marcus.
The recipient was someone named Dr. Alan Whitmore.
The subject line read:
Regarding Emily's medical records.
I felt my pulse quicken.
I read the first sentence.
As discussed, please ensure that the additional procedure is not included in the patient-facing summary.
I stopped.
"Additional procedure?""
Rebecca nodded.
"I don't know what it means.""
I read the email again.
Marcus had written it three years earlier.
The same month I lost my pregnancy.
My fingers began trembling.
"Did you find anything else?""
"Yes.""
She pulled out another document.
This one was a bank statement.
There were several payments to a company called Whitmore Medical Consulting.
The payments had started shortly after my miscarriage.
One was dated three days after I was discharged from the hospital.
Another was dated two weeks later.
The largest payment was $18,500.
I stared at the amount.
"Why would Marcus pay a medical consulting company?""
"I don't know.""
I pushed the papers away.
"I need to go to that hospital.""
Rebecca nodded.
"I'll come with you.""
"No.""
She looked surprised.
"I need to do this myself.""
I stood and picked up my handbag.
Then I stopped.
"Rebecca?""
"Yes?""
"Did Marcus ever tell you why he was so determined to keep our marriage together?""
She frowned.
"He said he loved you.""
I laughed quietly.
"That's what he told me, too.""
Rebecca looked down.
Then she said something unexpected.
"He also said your marriage was worth a lot of money.""
I froze.
"What?""
"He mentioned an inheritance. Something about your father.""
My father.
I remembered his estate.
He had owned a small commercial property and several investments. When he died, I inherited everything.
Marcus had helped me manage the paperwork because I was overwhelmed with grief.
He'd encouraged me to place some assets into a family trust.
He'd told me it was for our future children.
I had trusted him.
"How much money?"" I asked.
Rebecca shook her head.
"I don't know. He never gave me a number.""
I stared at her.
"Did Vanessa know?""
"She was there when he discussed it.""
I closed my eyes.
Of course she was.
I had told Vanessa everything about my father's inheritance. I'd even asked her opinion before signing some of the documents.
She had been my closest friend.
She had held my hand at my father's funeral.
And now I was beginning to suspect that she'd known more about my finances than I did.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Marcus.
Where are you? We need to talk. Come home immediately.
I didn't respond.
Another message arrived.
Rebecca is manipulating you. Don't believe anything she says.
Then a third.
I know you're looking into the old hospital records. Stop before you make things worse.
I stared at the screen.
My blood ran cold.
He knew.
He knew exactly what Rebecca had shown me.
I called him.
He answered immediately.
"Emily, thank God.""
"How do you know I'm looking into the hospital records?""
There was silence.
Then he said, "Because I know how Rebecca operates.""
"That's not an answer.""
"Come home.""
"Did you sign a medical authorization form in my name?""
"Emily, you don't understand what you're looking at.""
"Then explain it.""
"Not over the phone.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You've had three years to explain it.""
He lowered his voice.
"Please. Whatever Rebecca showed you, it's not what it looks like.""
"Did you authorize a procedure without my knowledge?""
"Emily—"
"YES OR NO?""
He exhaled.
"I did what I thought was necessary at the time.""
My entire body went cold.
"What did you do?""
"I'll explain everything when you get home.""
"Marcus, what did you do?""
He hung up.
I stood in the middle of the coffee shop, holding my phone.
Rebecca approached slowly.
"What happened?""
I looked at her.
"He admitted it.""
Her face changed.
"Admitted what?""
"That he did something.""
I swallowed.
"I don't know what it was, but he admitted that he made a decision about my medical treatment without telling me.""
Rebecca looked horrified.
"Emily, you need to get those records.""
I nodded.
Then my phone vibrated again.
This time, the message came from Vanessa.
Please don't go to the hospital. Marcus is already on his way there.
I stared at it.
Then another message appeared.
You have no idea what your father left behind.
I looked up at Rebecca.
She read my expression.
"What is it?""
I turned the screen toward her.
She read the message twice.
Then she whispered:
May you like
"Emily, I think Vanessa knows exactly what happened to your pregnancy.""
And suddenly, the woman I had trusted for fifteen years became the person I feared most.
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