Chapter 5 - Room 614
Sophie was waiting near the elevators at Westfield Medical, her backpack hanging from one shoulder.
"They transferred Dad upstairs," she said. "The nurse says it was routine. But somebody called asking whether he had a visitor badge, like they were trying to find him."
"Who called?"
"They wouldn't say."
Dad lay in Room 614, awake and angry, his leg held in a brace. He had grease permanently stained into the lines of his hands. Those hands had fixed our kitchen sink, Sophie's first bicycle, and every broken thing we owned except his own body.
"I'm not made of glass," he said when he saw us hovering. "Both of you, sit."
I told him about Victoria, Isabella, and Van 18.
His eyes filled, but he didn't cry. "I wrote the fault report two days before I got hurt. The rear restraint had cracked. The lift kept throwing a pressure error. I told them to park the van."
"Did they?"
"For one shift. Then my boss asked me to sign a clean inspection so a donor could ride in it for the gala publicity. I refused."
He stared at the hospital blanket. "I went back to photograph the damaged restraint. Someone had taken the warning tag off. The lift platform dropped while I was standing beside it. They said I leaned where I shouldn't have."
"Who was there?" Sophie asked.
"Our operations supervisor, Curtis Vane."
I remembered the name from the staff list on a clipboard at the ballroom. Victoria's company employed him, too.
"Dad, do you still have the pictures?"
"I had a work tablet. It vanished with my locker contents. But I made a copy of the first report. I mailed it to the foundation."
"To Isabella?"
"To somebody in her office. I never heard back." He glanced at me. "Emma, you didn't go looking for this mess, and I don't want it swallowing your life."
"It already found us," I said.
A knock came from the doorway. A hospital social worker stood there holding a printed form.
May you like
"Mr. Carter," she said, "we need to ask whether you authorized an early discharge to a private rehabilitation facility. Your signature is on the request."
Dad stared at her. "I didn't sign anything."
