My husband’s face changed.
The officer continued.
“And the second change was made from a different terminal.”
Nobody spoke.
The consultant looked toward me.
“Do you recognize either location?”
I shook my head.
I had never used the hospital’s administrative terminals.
The officer held up the paper.
“That’s why we asked whether you requested the discharge. We have to establish who made the request and whether the patient consented.”
My husband rubbed his forehead.
“You’re making this sound criminal.”
The officer’s voice remained even.
“I’m making it factual.”
That sentence changed the room.
There was no accusation in it.
No threat.
Just a record.
A time.
A terminal.
A request.
And a patient who had said she never made it.
My husband turned toward his mother.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
I noticed.
So did he.
“Mom?”
She said nothing.
“Did you do it?”
