Chapter 6 - THE HOSPITAL EXECUTIVE WHO THOUGHT SHE COULD BURY EVERYTHING
Her name was Rebecca Sloan.
Chief Operating Officer of St. Catherine Medical Center.
I had met her twice.
Once at a hospital fundraiser.
Once when I donated money to expand the neonatal unit.
She hugged me at that fundraiser.
Thanked me for “supporting mothers and babies.”
Apparently, behind my back, she had been helping my husband locate a doctor he believed could be compromised.
That did not mean Dr. Vance was corrupt.
It meant Flynn and Daniel thought he might be.
Why?
Vance had gambling debt from years earlier.
Mostly repaid.
Private information.
Information Rebecca had access to through an internal credentialing review.
She had quietly mentioned it to Daniel.
Daniel passed it to Flynn.
Flynn approached Vance.
The entire plan had begun with people weaponizing information.
Arthur was furious.
“You donated two million dollars to that hospital.”
“Not personally. The foundation did.”
“Oh, that makes attempted murder-adjacent corruption so much better.”
He had a point.
Rebecca denied everything.
Then investigators found messages.
Not explicit.
Smart criminals rarely write:
Hello, I would like to participate in a homicide conspiracy.
Instead:
Dr. V may be receptive to private opportunities due to past financial strain.
And:
Keep my name away from whatever arrangement you make.
Rebecca’s attorney called it innocent networking.
Prosecutors disagreed.
The hospital board suspended her.
Then auditors started examining other financial relationships.
Suddenly, my case became bigger than me.
Donor contracts.
Vendor agreements.
Executive kickbacks.
Not murder.
Money.
Always money.
Rebecca had allegedly steered service contracts toward businesses connected to Daniel.
Daniel supported hospital development projects through Mercer Commercial contacts.
Flynn had simply entered an ecosystem where everyone thought favors were currency.
My attempted murder was the ugliest expression of a culture already rotting.
That changed how I handled the hospital.
St. Catherine’s chairman called me.
“Mabel, we deeply regret—”
“Stop.”
Silence.
“If you say ‘isolated incident,’ I will end this call.”
He paused.
“We are still investigating scope.”
“Good answer.”
I requested three things.
Independent compliance review.
Public reporting of the findings.
And protection for employees who reported wrongdoing.
He agreed.
Not because I was powerful.
Because the hospital could not afford another headline.
I knew that.
So did he.
Four days after Rose was born, she was strong enough to leave neonatal care.
I held her while a nurse adjusted the car seat.
Arthur stood beside me.
Rachel carried three folders because apparently she had forgotten how normal humans left hospitals.
Dr. Vance came to see me before discharge.
He looked exhausted.
“I owe you an apology.”
“For saving my life?”
“For letting the situation continue without warning you sooner.”
I studied him.
“Were you ever going to take the money?”
“No.”
“Did you know Flynn had drugged my tea?”
His expression changed.
“No.”
That had not been part of the plan he knew.
Flynn had apparently acted alone.
Another layer of control.
Another attempt to weaken me.
Vance looked toward Rose.
“I’m glad you recorded them.”
“So am I.”
He hesitated.
“When Flynn first approached me, I thought I could gather enough information before involving you.”
“You thought wrong.”
“Yes.”
I appreciated that answer.
No excuses.
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
“But you also protected me.”
“I tried.”
Both truths mattered.
I did not forgive the delay immediately.
But I thanked him.
Then I took my daughter home.
Not to the house Flynn and I shared.
I could not enter it yet.
Too many memories.
Too much invisible contamination.
Instead, Rose and I stayed with Arthur and Emily.
Their house was chaos.
Three children.
Two dogs.
A refrigerator full of magnets.
Nothing matched.
It was the safest place I had ever been.
At night, when Rose cried, Emily helped.
Arthur made terrible bottles until I banned him from measuring anything.
For the first time in months, I slept without wondering where Flynn was.
I knew exactly where he was.
In custody.
The divorce filing went in on Monday.
No hesitation.
No counseling.
No “maybe.”
Our marriage had crossed a line that made reconciliation a meaningless word.
Flynn’s attorney requested access to Rose.
I refused unsupervised contact.
The court agreed temporarily.
Then came the inheritance twist Flynn had never expected.
Rachel formally notified his attorney that under the Mercer Trust, his arrest in connection with a plot against me triggered a protective provision.
All spouse-related discretionary benefits were suspended.
He had no claim to management control.
No access to distributions.
No leverage through Rose.
Nothing.
His attorney apparently had to explain this to him twice.
Flynn called Rachel furious.
“You’re stealing my daughter’s future.”
Rachel replied:
“No. Your daughter’s future is precisely what the trust protects.”
I wish I could have heard his face.
Meanwhile, Selina had her own revelation.
FVS Design Holdings was nearly empty.
Flynn had moved not just $250,000.
Another $180,000 had been transferred over six months to expenses she thought were joint investments.
Most went to Flynn’s personal debts and consulting payments to Daniel.
She called me.
“I’m going to lose my apartment.”
I almost said:
Not my problem.
And in one sense, it wasn’t.
But her unborn child was innocent.
I gave her Rachel’s number for an independent attorney.
Nothing more.
“I’m not paying your bills.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Good.”
She paused.
“Mabel?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
I closed my eyes.
“I believe you’re sorry now.”
“That’s fair.”
I wasn’t ready to forgive her.
Maybe I never would be.
But I no longer needed to hate her.
Flynn had taken enough of my emotional life.
He was not getting permanent residence in my anger.
Then, one week after Rose came home, Daniel Cross requested a private proffer with prosecutors.
He handed over emails.
Financial records.
And a recording.
A recording of Flynn.
Not discussing me.
Discussing Selina.
The date was three weeks before my delivery.
Flynn’s voice said:
Once Mabel’s estate is settled, Selina becomes a liability. She knows too much about the money.
Daniel asked:
What are you suggesting?
Flynn answered:
Nothing yet. I’m just saying I don’t plan to spend the next twenty years being controlled by another woman.
When Rachel played it for me, I felt sick.
Selina was five months pregnant.
He had not only been using her.
He was already imagining how to get rid of her once she stopped serving a purpose.
I sent her the recording.
She called me ten minutes later.
She was sobbing.
“I thought he loved me.”
I looked at Rose sleeping against my chest.
“I thought the same thing.”
For the first time, Selina and I were not wife and mistress.
We were simply two women looking at the same man without illusions.
May you like
And the next decision we made together would end Flynn’s ability to lie about either of us.
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