Chapter 7: The One More Thing
It came on a Friday.
I was at Rachel's house in Pittsburgh by then — Emily and I had been discharged two days earlier, and Diane had advised me to stay in Pennsylvania while the legal process moved forward.
Rachel had set up the spare room with a borrowed bassinet and a baby monitor she'd bought the morning after Emily was born, before she'd even known for certain we were coming.
I was feeding Emily when my phone rang.
Diane's name on the screen.
"I need you to stay calm," she said.
My stomach dropped.
"What happened?"
"Derek's attorney sent over a supplemental filing this morning." A brief pause.
"He's claiming that you have a substance @buse history.
He says you were using prescription medication without a valid prescription during the pregnancy, and that he has documentation."
The room tilted slightly.
"That's not true," I said.
"I know that," Diane said.
"But he's submitted what appears to be a pharmacy record.
Your name.
A prescription for a controlled substance.
Filled seven months ago."
"Diane, I have never—"
"I believe you," she said.
"Which means one of two things.
Either the document is fabricated.
Or someone used your name and information without your knowledge."
I sat very still.
Emily had stopped feeding.
She was looking up at me with the patient, unreadable expression she had already perfected at five days old.
"Karen," I said.
Silence on the line.
"Karen works in healthcare administration," I said.
"She told Derek that once at a dinner party.
I remember because he mentioned it afterward — said she was useful to know." I paused.
"She would have access to systems.
Patient records.
Prescription databases."
"That's a serious allegation," Diane said carefully.
"I know."
"If it's true, it's also a crjme."
"I know that too."
A pause.
"All right," Diane said.
"I'm going to need you to write down everything you remember about Karen.
Her full name if you have it, where she works, anything Derek said about her, the dinner party, any other time she came up." Her voice was steady and precise.
"Do not contact her.
Do not contact Derek.
Write it all down and send it to me tonight."
"Okay," I said.
"There's one more thing," Diane said.
Her tone shifted slightly — not softer, but more deliberate.
"The pharmacy record has a signature on it.
A doctor's signature authorizing the prescription."
"Whose name?"
"Dr.
Fenwick," Diane said.
"Your OB."
The silence that followed was long.
"That signature is forged," I said.
"Yes," Diane said.
"I believe it is.
And if we can prove that, this filing doesn't just fail — it becomes evidence of something much more serious than a custody dispute."
I looked down at Emily.
She had fallen asleep against my arm, her mouth slightly open, her whole body soft and trusting and completely unaware of the war being fought around her.
"How do we prove it?" I said.
"Dr.
Fenwick," Diane said simply.
"I need you to call her office today and ask for an urgent appointment.
Don't explain everything on the phone.
Just tell them it's a legal matter and it's time-sensitive."
"She's in Columbus," I said.
"I know," Diane said.
"But she's also the person whose name is on a forged document.
She has a very strong interest in helping us." A pause.
"Can you make the call?"
"Yes," I said.
"Good." Diane's voice returned to its usual measured pace.
"Derek thought this would frighten you into coming back.
He doesn't know yet that he just handed us something we can use." A brief pause.
"Call Dr.
Fenwick.
Send me the Karen notes tonight.
And stay where you are."
She hung up.
I sat in Rachel's spare room with Emily asleep on my arm and my phone in my other hand.
Outside, Pittsburgh was gray and quiet.
A car passed on the street below.
A dog barked once and stopped.
I opened my contacts and found Dr.
Fenwick's office number.
May you like
My hands were steady.
I pressed call.
