Terms of Engagement

Mae felt a rush of defiance. “What do you want from me?”

Helena’s lips curved into a thin, mocking smile. “Help us keep this under wraps. If the media gets wind of this, it could ruin the Vale family name. You’ll use your skills as an investigative journalist to keep the scrutiny away.”

Before Mae could formulate a response, Dr. Rowan Pike, the head physician, emerged from the corridor, his expression grave. “Ms. Lin, I need to speak with you,” he said, his tone brokering no argument.

Helena’s expression darkened, but Mae felt a flicker of hope. She followed Dr. Pike down the stark white hallway, the fluorescent lighting buzzing overhead. The antiseptic smell intensified, mingling with an underlying scent of something stale and unwelcoming.

“Elias is stable for now, but he’s in intensive care,” Dr. Pike said, glancing over his shoulder as they walked. “You’re likely the last person he wants to see.”

“I’m not here for him,” Mae insisted, her voice steady despite the tempest of emotions inside her. “I’m looking into what happened at the wedding.”

Dr. Pike stopped abruptly, turning to face her in the dim corridor. “Then you should know,” he said, lowering his voice as if the walls had ears. “There are records that don’t match up. It’s questionable. I can’t say more, but you need to tread carefully.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with implications. Mae’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments of the wedding disaster. What had really happened? Before she could probe further, Dr. Pike turned and walked away, leaving her in a whirlpool of uncertainty.

She glanced down the corridor, her gaze drawn to Elias’s room at the end. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the corridor. She hesitated, heart pounding, weighing the consequences of stepping closer.

Suddenly, she caught sight of Helena lurking in the shadows just beyond the waiting room. The determination in Helena’s eyes was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Mae felt a chill run down her spine.

She knew she had to investigate, but at what cost? Would Helena’s threats loom over her like a dark cloud, ready to engulf her if she dared to dig deeper? As the tension mounted, Mae felt her resolve strengthen. She had to find out the truth, not just for Elias but for herself.

Taking a deep breath, she edged toward the room, her heart pounding in her ears. The sterile hallway felt colder, the fluorescent lights flickering as she approached. She paused at the door, her pulse quickening.

What if she was discovered? What if Helena was right? But the thought of Elias alone, vulnerable, in a hospital bed filled her with urgency. She leaned closer, straining to hear any sounds from inside.

A soft groan broke through the silence, and Mae’s breath caught in her throat. She pushed the door open just a crack, peering inside. The sight that met her eyes sent a shudder through her,Elias lay unconscious, his face pale, tubes snaking from his body like invasive vines.

Just then, a sharp voice sliced through the air. “What are you doing?”

Mae whipped around to find Helena standing behind her, fury etched across her features. “I told you to stay away!”

Caught between the truth she sought and the looming threat of Helena’s wrath, Mae felt the weight of the moment settle upon her. She had crossed a line, and there was no turning back now. The tension crackled in the air, and she braced herself for whatever would come next.

The security supervisor refused to show her the raw footage. “Family requests go through counsel,” he said.

“Then call counsel while I wait.”

He glanced toward the elevators. Two orderlies had arrived with a transfer bed, though no transfer order appeared on the screen. Mae placed herself between the bed and the ward doors. A stranger in scrubs reached for the chart, and she read his badge before he could turn away: Dr. Kline, a consultant who had not treated Elias at the wedding or in the ambulance.

Her phone vibrated. The message came from Elias’s private number: Take the east stairwell. Bring the blue folder. Mae stared at the screen. Elias was unconscious, yet the message contained a phrase they had used only once, during a charity auction where Helena had been standing beside them. Someone with access to his phone was testing whether Mae would obey.

She copied the message, then handed the phone to the supervisor. “Log this as evidence.”

The supervisor’s expression changed. He called an officer, and the orderlies left without the bed. Mae used the pause to open the blue folder. Inside, a hospital invoice listed a second admission for Elias six hours before the wedding. The patient number matched, but the name was a sequence of initials. The final page carried the same witness signature as the altered directive.

Mae understood the cost of asking for help: every person she brought into the record could become a target. She called Adrian, Elias’s estranged cousin, because he had no reason to protect Helena. He arrived with a lawyer and a promise to stand beside Mae on camera. They would enter the boardroom together, request the original admission log, and force the family to deny the second patient in public.

Before they reached the elevator, the ward announced that Elias had stopped responding. The monitor alarm sounded again. Mae pushed the blue folder into Adrian’s hands and ran toward the treatment bay, knowing the next decision would be made without her if she was late.

The bed carried a man whose face was hidden by oxygen tubing. Mae checked the wristband. The number was wrong. She pulled back the blanket and saw a scar that was not Elias’s. Adrian demanded the transfer order. It had been printed from Helena’s office and named a clinic absent from the registry. Mae photographed it and sent the directive, the forged order, and the wrong wristband to every board member. The subject line read: Confirm the patient before you confirm the heir. The hospital lights flickered. On the monitor, Elias’s name disappeared from the ward census. Adrian pulled the manual census ledger from the wall. Elias’s entry had been crossed out in blue ink, the same ink used on the altered wedding certificate. Mae took the ledger and walked toward the boardroom. If the electronic record could be erased, the paper record had to travel with a witness.