Pregnant For The Alpha I Never Met

The samples

MILLIE'S POV

My stomach still churned with anxiety as Braham parked the car in the parking lot of St. Catherine's Medical Center .

Will Reid was already waiting in the lobby, along with a woman in her fifties wearing a white coat and wire-rimmed glasses.

"Ms. Harvey, Mr. Gothan," Will greeted us. "This is Dr. Patricia Brown, the forensic pathologist I told you about."

Dr. Brown extended her hand, her grip firm but gentle. "I'm so sorry for what you're going through, Ms. Harvey. Your mother's case has haunted this hospital for years."

"Haunted?" I repeated.

"Dr. Titus Webb…the physician who treated her…he never got over it." Dr. Brown's expression was sympathetic. "A young, healthy woman dying so quickly with no clear diagnosis? He ran every test available at the time. When nothing explained her deterioration, it ate at him. He retired early, and your mother's case was one of the reasons he did."

She gestured for us to follow her. "Come. The archives are in the basement. Fair warning…it's going to be cold down there, and the space is cramped. But if anything from twenty -one years ago still exists, that's where it'll be."

We followed her through increasingly older hallways, past the newer wings of the hospital, through sections that looked like they hadn't been updated since the building was first constructed.

The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally, and the air grew noticeably cooler as we descended a narrow staircase.

"This is the original basement level," Dr. Brown explained, unlocking a heavy steel door. "Everything above ten years old is stored down here, waiting to be digitized or disposed of according to protocol."

The room beyond was temperature-controlled and filled with rows upon rows of filing cabinets and storage units. Everything was meticulously labeled with years and patient numbers.

"Twenty-one years ago should be in section E," Dr. Brown said, pulling out a thick logbook. "But I need to be honest with you, Ms. Harvey. Hospital policy is seven to ten years retention for biological samples. By rights, anything from your mother's case should have been destroyed ten years ago at the latest."

"But you said there might be a chance," I said, my voice small.

"There is. Sometimes attending physicians flag certain cases for extended retention if the death was unusual or if they believed further investigation might be needed." She ran her finger down the logbook. "Let me see... Oslo, June. Patient number 27489."

My mother's patient number. Seeing it written there made it real in a way I hadn't expected.

Dr. Brown's finger stopped. "Here. Admitted March 18. Deceased May 20." She looked up. "Dr. Webb flagged this case for indefinite retention pending review."

Hope exploded in my chest. "Does that mean…"

"It means he kept the samples," Dr. Brown said, already moving toward section E. "It doesn't guarantee they're still viable after twenty-one years, but it means they should be here."

She opened a tall storage unit and began searching through carefully labeled boxes. Braham's hand found mine, squeezing gently.

"May..." Dr. Brown muttered, pulling out boxes and checking labels. "Here. Patient 27489."

She withdrew a small sealed box and set it on a nearby table. Inside, protected by foam padding, were three glass vials, each filled with dark red liquid.

My mother's blood.

"May 8th, May 12th, and May 15th," Dr. Brown read the labels carefully. "Drawn at five-day intervals. Five days, nine days, and twelve days before her death."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Those vials held my mother's blood…taken while Sabrina was poisoning her, while she was getting sicker, while she was afraid and alone.

"The seals are intact," Dr. Brown said, examining each vial closely. "That's excellent. It means there's been no contamination." She looked at me. "Ms. Harvey, do you understand what this means?"

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

"This means we have direct biological evidence from the time period when your mother was allegedly being poisoned. If ethylene glycol was in her system, if she was being given antifreeze in her tea as Mrs. Norman confessed, these samples will prove it."

"You can test them?" Braham asked. "After all this time?"

"Absolutely. Modern testing methods are far more sensitive than what was available twenty-one years ago."

Dr. Brown carefully returned the vials to their protective box.

"We can detect even trace amounts of ethylene glycol and its metabolites. We can determine concentration levels, estimate how long the substance had been in her system, even potentially identify the specific formulation of antifreeze used."

"How certain are you that the samples are still viable?" Will asked, making notes.

"Very certain. They've been kept at the correct temperature, the seals are intact, and blood can preserve remarkably well under proper conditions."

Dr. Brown began documenting everything… dates, times, who was present.

"The real challenge isn't viability. It's establishing a chain of custody for a legal case."

"What do we need to do?" I finally found my voice.

"I'll need you to sign consent forms as next of kin. Then I'll personally transport these to our forensic toxicology lab. Every step will be documented, photographed, witnessed."

She pulled out a camera and began taking detailed photos of the vials, the labels, the box.

"We'll run a comprehensive toxicology panel…testing specifically for ethylene glycol, but also checking for other potential toxins just to be thorough."

"How long will it take?" I asked, though I already knew the answer from what Will had told us yesterday.

"The actual testing is relatively quick…a few days for initial results. But for something this critical to a potential murder case, I'll want independent verification."

Dr. Brown looked at me with kind eyes.

"We're looking at two weeks for preliminary findings that will tell us definitively if ethylene glycol is present. Then four to six more weeks for comprehensive analysis and independent lab confirmation."

"Six to eight weeks total," Will confirmed.

"But we'll know in two weeks if the poison is there," I said. "That's the important part. Two weeks to know for sure if my mother was murdered."

"Exactly." Dr. Brown pulled out consent forms and a pen. "Ms. Harvey, I need you to sign here authorizing the testing. And here acknowledging that you understand the samples will be used as evidence in a criminal investigation."

My hand shook as I signed. My mother's name was on these forms, but it was my signature giving permission for the truth to finally come out.

"I'll start the processing immediately," Dr. Brown said, carefully sealing the box. "I'll call you as soon as we have preliminary results. And Ms. Harvey?"

She paused.

"I knew your mother briefly. She came to a hospital fundraiser I organized about a year before she fell sick. She was kind, generous, and so full of life. What happened to her wasn't right. I'm glad we finally have a chance to prove it."

Tears burned my eyes. "Thank you. For keeping these samples. For caring enough to search for them."

"Dr. Webb cared. He's the one who made sure they were preserved. He always believed something wasn't right about her death." Dr. Brown picked up the box. "Let me get these to the lab. Will, you have my number. I'll update you every step of the way."

After she left, the three of us stood in the cold basement archive room for a long moment.

"She found them," I whispered. "After twenty-one years, the evidence still exists."

"Two weeks," Braham said softly. "In two weeks, we'll have preliminary results."

"And if they're positive?" I looked at Will.

"Then combined with Sabrina's confession, the eyewitness testimony, and all the circumstantial evidence, we'll have everything we need to prosecute." Will closed his folder. "The DA will file murder charges. Sabrina will stand trial. And your mother will finally get justice."

Outside the hospital, the afternoon sun felt too bright after the dimness of the basement. I leaned against the car, my legs suddenly weak.

"Are you okay?" Braham asked, his hand on my back.

"I don't know. I feel... I don't even know what I feel." I looked at him. "Those vials are real. My mother's blood is real. In two weeks, we'll know for absolute certain that Sabrina murdered her."

"Are you ready for that?" he asked gently. "For the confirmation?"

"I've been ready for twenty-one years. I just didn't know what I was waiting for." I wiped my eyes. "How long until we hear about the phone?"

Braham checked his phone. "The specialist said seventy-two hours. That was yesterday morning, so we should hear something by the day after tomorrow."

"Two more days to know if Sabrina's confession was recorded. Fourteen more days to know if the toxicology confirms poisoning." I took a shaky breath. "I can wait that long."

"While we wait, we focus on Leo. On healing. On being a family," Braham said, echoing what he'd told me before.

"On being a family," I repeated.

Because regardless of what the tests showed, regardless of what happened with Sabrina, I had something my mother never got to keep…a family that loved me. A son who needed me. A man who stood by me through everything.

My mother had fought to protect me until her last breath.

Now it was time to honor that fight by living the life she'd wanted for me.

I could do this.

For my mother.

For myself.

For justice.