The doctor's words echoed down the marble corridor.
Julian's fingers gripped the edge of the clipboard so hard that the paper tore with a sharp rip.
"What did you say?" He took a step forward, his leather shoe colliding with the metal footrest of a wheelchair. "No tumor?"
The neurologist handed the examination report to him.
"The whole-brain MRI scan showed no signs of a mass. The security watermark and hospital code on that report from two years ago are completely invalid."
The doctor turned to look at the emergency room door.
"The patient is experiencing frequent uterine contractions. We must administer progesterone immediately to save the pregnancy. We need a family member to sign."
Julian didn't take the pen.
His hands hung limp at his sides, his fingers trembling violently.
"
