Chapter 3 — The Man I Already Saved
1019 Words
"You can't lose part of a medical archive and call it an inventory discrepancy."
Olivia heard Sebastian Ashford before she saw him.
His voice carried through the glass doors of the reading room, controlled enough to avoid a scene and sharp enough to make the archivist grip her desk.
Sebastian stood with his back to the entrance, one hand beside a printed catalog.
"The collection passed through three custodians," the archivist said. "There are gaps."
"There's a difference between a gap and a page removed after the last inventory."
Olivia stopped inside the doorway.
The voice was older than the one she remembered from three years ago, without engine noise behind it or the anger of a man being ordered out of his own armored vehicle by a stranger.
But it was him.
The archivist noticed Olivia first. "Ms. Reed?"
Sebastian turned.
His attention moved from her face to the document case in her hand, then back again.
No recognition.
Good.
"I have a nine o'clock appointment for the Crown Medical collection," Olivia said.
The archivist looked as if she regretted every choice that had brought both of them into the room.
"Both requests are valid. Mr. Ashford arrived early. One box remains available, but one neonatal discharge page listed in the last inventory is missing."
Olivia looked at Sebastian. "Which date?"
His gaze narrowed. "Why?"
"Because I asked."
"That isn't an answer."
"It wasn't meant to be."
The archivist cleared her throat. "You may review the remaining box together under supervision."
"I requested exclusive access," Sebastian said.
"So did I."
"I have counsel waiting."
"I have my own examiner."
"He's not here."
"He doesn't need to be here for me to read."
Before either could continue, the archivist disappeared through the secured door.
Sebastian moved closer to the shared table. "You came from Oregon."
"You read my request."
"I read the reservation notice."
"Then you already know enough about me."
"That depends on what you're looking for."
"Medical records."
His mouth shifted, almost a smile. "You crossed the country for twenty-six-year-old discharge forms."
"And you brought lawyers."
"One lawyer."
"Much more ordinary."
The archivist returned carrying a gray archival carton.
Olivia and Sebastian reached for it at the same time.
His hand closed around one side. Hers caught the other.
The box stopped between them.
He was close enough for Olivia to see a faint scar near his jaw. His eyes were darker than they looked in photographs, and more alert.
His gaze dropped to her hand.
Then back to her face.
"Have we met?"
"No."
"Your voice is familiar."
Olivia kept her grip on the box. "You probably hear a lot of women tell you no."
The archivist made a suspiciously muffled sound.
Sebastian held Olivia's gaze for another second, then released the carton.
"After you."
She carried it to the table.
They signed the handling form and began with the indexed files.
Sebastian checked page numbers against a scan on his tablet. Olivia watched him long enough to know he was not there out of casual curiosity.
"You're not researching a family birth," she said.
"Neither are you."
"You first."
"I'm looking into Dr. Nathaniel Vale."
Mara's name for him sat between them.
"Why?"
"He signed records connected to an investigation."
"Which investigation?"
"Your turn."
"I'm verifying a birth."
"The one that brought you across the country?"
"Yes."
"Kingstone?"
Her fingers paused.
Sebastian noticed.
Of course he did.
"What makes you think that?"
"People don't usually study my relationship with Albert Kingstone before requesting old neonatal records."
He tapped the open notebook beside her. She had written Kingstone and Ashford beside the archive reference.
"You assume the Kingstones are the center of every search."
"Not every search. This one."
He turned the tablet toward her.
The prior inventory listed twelve pages in neonatal discharge.
The box held eleven.
A later note marked the missing page as transferred for legal review. No destination. No authorization number.
"When was that entered?" Olivia asked.
"Eleven weeks ago. The page was present six months ago."
The archivist came over when Sebastian called her.
"Who edited the entry?"
She stared at the screen. "There should be an employee ID."
"There isn't."
"That isn't possible."
"It happened anyway," Olivia said.
The archivist went to contact the records manager.
Sebastian lowered his voice. "Someone knew where to look."
"Or someone manages old files badly."
"You don't believe that."
"What I believe isn't available to you."
His jaw tightened. "If you plan to use incomplete records against the Kingstones, they'll bury you in litigation before you finish the first sentence."
There it was.
Protection.
Olivia closed the folder. "And if you're here to protect Albert, loyalty still doesn't authenticate a document."
"I'm here because people connected to Vale tried to kill my brother."
Olivia looked at him.
He did not explain further.
A dead brother made his presence here more understandable. It did not make him safe.
She opened her document case and removed the birth certificate in its clear sleeve.
Sebastian's attention fixed on it.
"Where did you get that?"
"From the woman who took me out of Crown Medical."
He reached toward the sleeve, then stopped before touching it.
Olivia noticed the restraint and laid the certificate flat herself.
He read Eleanor Whitmore Kingstone's name.
Then Richard's.
Then the child's.
"This could be forged."
"It could."
"But you don't think it is."
"I think a page vanished from the only surviving box that could support it."
"The Kingstone child died at birth."
"That's what someone paid Dr. Vale to record."
"You have proof of payment?"
"I have the bracelet, a neonatal chart showing a healthy newborn, and a recorded confession from the nurse who removed me from the hospital."
The archivist returned, pale.
"The system log was overwritten. The backup index was altered too."
Sebastian stood. "By whom?"
"We don't know."
Olivia slid the certificate back into its case.
Sebastian turned to her. "If this is real, you need to explain exactly what you're claiming."
She locked the case and met his eyes.
"I'm the daughter your friends buried without a body."
- Writer
