This was her chance. Emily walked forward, stepping out into the walkway between the café and the waiting room. She pressed her back against the corner wall as she heard the nurses’ pounding footsteps looming closer and closer. Emily held her breath and spun to her right, circling around the corner, slamming into the nurse.
“Oh, my God!” Emily cried out as her hand tightened around the paper cup, the coffee splashing through the air and against her chest. Emily released her purse that dangled from her shoulder, letting it clatter to the tile floor. Her teeth ground behind her closed lips, the hot coffee trickling down her shirt, as the nurse’s wide eyes stared back at her, a few drops of coffee dripping down her chin.
“Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry!” the nurse said, placing her hand against her own chest as she struggled to catch her breath. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“No, I am fine! I should have watched where I was going!” Emily smiled as the nurse quickly knelt down, grabbing at the spilled contents of Emily’s purse. “Don’t worry about it! I can get all this!” Emily said, leaning down in front of her.
“No, it’s my fault. I am so sorry.” The nurse sighed as she turned away from Emily, grabbing a tube of lipstick behind her.
This was her chance.
Emily’s hand shot forward, grabbing the ID tag clipped to the top edge of the nurse’s scrub pants. She quickly shoved the laminated tag into the pocket of her coat as the nurse turned back toward her, handing her the lipstick.
“Let me get you some paper towels!” the nurse said, standing as Emily shoved the lipstick into her purse.
“No, please don’t bother. You’ve done enough. You’ve got lives to save.” Emily smiled. “Just go.”
“I am so sorry,” the nurse said as she spun around, making her way toward the waiting room ahead. Emily’s heart raced in her chest as she stood up, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. Emily’s right hand slithered into the right pocket of her coat. She felt the cold, slick surface of the ID card inside.
Perfect.
***
Emily’s trembling hand tightened around the metal door handle in front of her as she turned, peeking out into the busy hospital hallway. She had finally found the nurses’ locker room on the third floor. She swallowed hard as she stared at the spare set of scrubs she had found in a locker, the itchy fabric prickling at her burning chest.
Now, she just had to find the records room.
Emily stepped out into the chaotic hallway as two nurses rushed around her, making their way toward the right end of the corridor as a young man on a stretcher was wheeled into a room. Emily turned to her left, scanning the long hallway as she walked along the front of the nurse’s vacant patient check-out desk. It had to be somewhere around here. It couldn’t be too far. She had to act. Fast.
Emily sped around the corner of the hospital corridor, passing the numerous doors that lined both sides of the hallway. Her eyes narrowed on the dark, wooden door at the end of the hall. Her eyes squinted in the bright fluorescent light above as she read the words printed on the glass window in the center:
RECORDS
Emily sped forward, her legs moving fast as she glanced back; the coast, clear. She reached forward and turned the door handle. Locked. She glanced to the right, staring back at the small key scanner mounted to the door beneath the handle. Emily quickly pulled the laminated ID tag from the pocket of her scrub pants and flipped it over, looking at the barcode on the back. She held the code beneath the glowing, red scanner as she heard the door click open.
“Thank God.” Emily sighed, releasing the breath she was holding, as she stepped into the room, the heavy door slamming shut behind her. Emily stared forward, her eyes scanning the filing cabinets lined neatly in rows throughout the room. She sped forward, making her way down the first aisle of filing cabinets, all in alphabetical order, each cabinet labeled with a bold letter tag. Emily stepped up to the tall file cabinet in front of her, staring back at the bold “B” on the front. She wrapped her hands around the cold, steel handle and pulled it open, looking at the numerous dividers separating each set of records, the patient names written on the top edge of each folder. Emily ran her fingers through the files, searching for Blair’s name.
It had to be here.
Emily’s heart sank in her chest as she spotted Blair’s name. Her fingers dug between the folders, grasping Blair’s file. Emily dragged the folder out from the cabinet and slammed it on the top of the stacked files inside, flipping the folder wide open. Emily stared down at Blair’s demographics sheet, a photo of her smiling back at the camera with all of her basic information printed below. Emily flipped through the documents, searching for anything that might stick out, anything that would lead her to the truth. Her eyes then widened as they settled on a birth certificate. Emily grabbed the piece of paper, the parchment trembling in her hands.
Blair did have a baby. A baby girl. Madison Bradley.
Emily flipped the paper over and read the opposite side.
Father: unknown.
Her lips trembled as she turned the paper back over, searching for the date of birth.
September thirteenth.
That meant Madison, her granddaughter, was four months old. Emily closed her eyes as
