Chapter 7
The stretcher didn't move for a long time after Hank locked the hall. I could hear the wheels of a supply cart squeaking somewhere and the steady beep of the monitor clipped to my finger.
Daniel Reyes stood at the foot of that stretcher and he didn't touch me until he asked. He said my name wrong at first. Elena Marsh, right? He corrected himself when Carla said Marsh is my married name but I kept my chart under Elena Cruz. He nodded like he'd already known both.
"I'm not family," he said, quiet, so Diane couldn't hear from where she'd been moved to the bench by the double doors. "I'm outside counsel for the Meridian Foundation. Your husband's mother hired us to review the disclosure forms. That briefcase is the board packet."
He set the brown briefcase on the empty chair beside my stretcher and popped the latches. Inside were tabbed folders, printed agendas, and a single stapled memo with my name on the label: MARSH, E. — RESIDENCY & HEALTH PROXY — DRAFT FOR 11:00 REVIEW. The time stamp on the memo was 9:40 a.m., before Diane had pushed me.
"I was supposed to meet Diane and your husband at eleven to walk through these," Daniel said. "Diane called me yesterday and said you had agreed to voluntary placement at Meridian House and wanted a private signing before your husband flew in. She asked me to bring blank originals and to not copy your OB directly."
Carla made a sound in her throat. "She said that? Elena never said yes."
"I didn't," I said. My voice was hoarse from breathing on the marble. "I told her last week I wanted to stay in my apartment until the baby came."
Daniel looked down at the papers scattered under evidence markers in the hallway. One of the guards was photographing each sheet where it lay. "These are the same forms," he said. "Six pages. Intent to reside, medical proxy to Diane, financial authorization while under care. They require two witnesses. There's a signature line for you, but no signature. And no husband signature. If you'd signed, I would have been the first witness."
Hank came back from the double doors and stood beside us. He had his notebook open. "Mr. Reyes, you need to stay as witness. State liaison is twenty minutes out. County asked for foundation counsel to stay separate from family."
Daniel nodded. "I will. I also need to report this to the foundation board. Diaz needs to know the forms were used like this."
From the hallway, Diane called out. It wasn't loud, but her voice carried on marble. "Daniel? Daniel, honey, tell them this is family business. Tell them Elena is overtired. I'm her mother-in-law. I'm trying to protect the baby."
No one answered her right away. The younger guard shifted her weight but didn't turn.
Daniel didn't look at Diane. He looked at me. "Do you want me here?" he asked. "Or do you want me to wait outside? I work for the foundation, not for Diane personally. If you want your own advocate, I can call legal aid now. No charge to you. It's protocol."
I thought about the dark cup in the plastic bag and the orange glass and how Diane had held that cup to my mouth while Carla grabbed her arm. I thought about the memo that said I had agreed when I hadn't.
"I want you here," I said. "And I want Carla here."
Hank wrote that down verbatim. He then walked to Diane and said, "Ma'am, counsel is not representing you alone anymore. Please don't address the victim or other witnesses until the liaison arrives."
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Diane's face tightened. She pulled her black dress straight at the sleeves, the three-quarter sleeves that had brushed my face when she leaned over me. She said, very calmly, "My son will be here at noon. He'll explain. This is being misunderstood."
The monitor beeped. The baby kicked again. Daniel closed his briefcase but didn't lock it, and he sat in the chair next to me to wait.
