Chapter 4 - The Patient Who Never ExistedThe room suddenly felt colder.
“My mother?”
The nurse nodded.
“Your mother's name appears on a medical authorization form.”
I looked across the room.
Amanda had gone completely pale.
“What authorization?”
The nurse hesitated.
“It's complicated.”
The police officer stepped closer.
“Please explain.”
The nurse pulled up a record.
“Three years ago, a private insurance claim was filed under Amanda Wellman's name. It involved a series of treatments at a clinic that closed shortly afterward.”
My mother immediately interrupted.
“That is ridiculous.”
The nurse continued.
“The strange part is that the patient listed in the treatment records appears to have received long-term care.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone billed insurance for treatments that may never have happened.”
I stared at my mother.
She shook her head.
“I don't know anything about that.”
The officer looked at me.
“You work in hospital auditing?”
“Yes.”
“Then you may understand why this matters.”
I did.
Fraud.
Potentially millions of dollars.
And my name appeared on one of the documents.
But I had never signed it.
The police asked my mother to leave the room.
She refused.
Eventually, they escorted her outside.
The moment she disappeared, the nurse leaned toward me.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The authorization contains a signature that looks like yours.”
My stomach dropped.
“My signature?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the ceiling.
Someone had forged my name.
But why?
That night, I couldn't sleep.
The next morning, my hospital employer contacted me.
I was suspended pending an internal investigation.
Someone had submitted forged audit documents using my employee credentials.
The financial trail pointed toward a medical equipment company.
The same company connected to Austin.
Everything was connected.
Kathleen's inheritance.
Austin's fake business.
My mother's medical records.
My stolen credentials.
And now my career.
I called Naomi.
She answered immediately.
“I found something.”
“What?”
“My father has been receiving invoices from Austin's company.”
“How much?”
“Over two million dollars.”
My heart stopped.
“Does your father know?”
“He thinks Austin invested the money.”
“Don't let him send anything else.”
“He already did.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“Another three hundred thousand yesterday.”
Austin had been moving faster than we realized.
We needed evidence.
Real evidence.
I asked Naomi to send me copies of everything.
Then Kathleen called.
“Monica, you need to come here.”
Her voice sounded frightened.
I went to Oceanside that afternoon.
Kathleen opened the door.
“There was someone outside last night.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No.”
She handed me an envelope.
It had been pushed under her door.
Inside was a single photograph.
Austin.
My mother.
And another man.
They were standing outside a private clinic.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten message.
Stop digging.
I stared at it.
Kathleen whispered:
“Monica, I think we're in danger.”
I wanted to tell her she was wrong.
But then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said:
“You should have stayed quiet.”
The call ended.
That was when I understood.
May you like
Austin wasn't acting alone.
And whoever was behind him wasn't afraid of hurting anyone who got in the way.
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