Chapter 2
Bradley froze in horror, but little did he know, I was listening to the whole conversation through a bug in the room.
Part 4: The Phantom Pregnancy
Rain beat against the office windows at Barrett Medical Center as I sat at my desk drinking coffee. My lawyer Raymond Finch called my phone with a chuckle.
“You were right, Allison,” Raymond said. “We checked her medical records, and Hannah is not pregnant at all. She has an infection from taking bad diet pills, and she paid a clinic worker two thousand dollars to make a fake ultrasound picture.”
“Send the real lab results and the worker’s confession to Bradley’s phone right now,” I instructed him.
In his messy apartment, Bradley sat on the couch shaking while holding the fake ultrasound picture. The idea of another pregnancy gave him severe panic attacks after what happened in the OR.
Hannah was putting on makeup in the mirror. “I need ten thousand dollars for an abortion, Bradley, so go find it,” she demanded coldly.
Suddenly, Bradley’s phone buzzed with an email. He opened it and saw Hannah’s real blood test showing she was not pregnant, along with an audio file of the worker admitting she bribed him.
The room went dead silent as Hannah dropped her makeup. Bradley slowly stood up from the couch, his eyes filled with rage as he rushed over and grabbed Hannah by the throat, lifting her up.
“You lied to me?!” he roared at her. “You faked a baby to get my money?!”
Hannah choked for air, but then she let out a mean laugh right in his face. “You did not ruin your life because of me, you coward! You turned off her pain meds because you were jealous of her! You knew she was a better doctor than you, so you used me to hurt her!”
Her words hit him hard, and Bradley dropped her onto the floor, screaming in mental agony as he realized she was right. The neighbors called the police, and ten minutes later, both Bradley and Hannah were arrested and taken away in handcuffs.
I saw their mugshots online, but I felt no pity. A doctor just removes the bad tissue and moves on.
“Raymond, release the rest of the evidence,” I said.
Hannah had used a fake nursing degree to get her job, and Bradley had signed off on her papers without checking them. This made their crime a federal offense for fraud and forgery.
Bradley managed to get out on bail a few hours later, but as he walked down the police station steps, two federal agents stopped him and put handcuffs back on his wrists. His medical license was gone forever, and he was facing years in prison. His mind completely broke right then and there.
He used his last bit of money to pay a driver to track my location, waiting for me in the dark with nothing left to lose.
Part 5: The Final Diagnosis
The underground parking garage at Barrett Medical Center was dark and cold as I walked toward my car after a long shift. Suddenly, a messy figure jumped out from behind a post.
“Allison!” a rough voice screamed.
My security guards instantly tackled the man to the wet floor. It was Bradley, looking skinny, dirty, and completely insane.
“Please talk to me, Allison!” he cried out from the ground. “They took my license and I am going to prison! Please drop the lawsuit and I will disappear forever!”
I walked over, opened a bottle of cold water from my bag, and poured it over his head. He gasped at the cold liquid.
“Does it feel bad to be helpless, Bradley?” I asked quietly. “That is what you said to me when I was bleeding on the table.”
Realizing I would not help him, Bradley went crazy, pulled a small utility knife from his pocket, and lunged at me. Before he could reach me, a black SUV sped around the corner and hit Bradley, knocking him hard against the concrete wall.
Gavin Barrett stepped out of the SUV, looking furious, while his guards held Bradley down. One guard stepped heavily on Bradley’s right hand, crushing his fingers with a loud crunch.
Bradley screamed in pain, holding his broken hand. Gavin put his coat over my shoulders to keep me warm.
I walked up to Bradley and looked down at his crying face. “Let me give you your final diagnosis, Bradley.”
He whimpered in pain on the floor.
“I checked the OR records from that night,” I told him clearly. “Hannah did not bring saline into the room, because she brought a lethal dose of Pitocin to rupture my uterus. She tried to hurt me, and you saw the green label on the bottle.”
Bradley stared at me in total shock.
“You knew what it was, but you stayed silent and let her do it just to hurt my pride,” I said coldly. “You are just a murderer who let someone else do his dirty work.”
Bradley let out a crazy scream and started pulling his own hair, completely losing his mind. Gavin helped me into the car, leaving Bradley on the floor as police sirens echoed in the distance.
A month later at the trial, Hannah was sentenced to seven years in federal prison for fraud. Bradley, whose hand was permanently ruined and who was diagnosed with severe mental illness, was sent to a secure psychiatric hospital for three years. As they walked him out, he stared at me with a blank, crazy smile, but I ignored him and threw his letter straight into the trash.
Later that winter, a pregnant woman came into the ER after a car crash with a torn uterus. The other doctors wanted to do a quick hysterectomy, but I worked for hours using special techniques to save both her life and her ability to have children. When I walked out of surgery, Gavin was waiting in the hallway and handed me a piece of candy with a smile.
Six months later, I stood at a press conference in a white suit, announcing a ten million dollar donation to start the Winter’s Dawn Foundation to protect women’s health rights.
That evening, Gavin and I stood on the rooftop helipad watching the sunset over Nashville.
“You do not need me, Allison, but I am right here if you ever want company at the top,” Gavin said warmly.
I looked at the sky and smiled. “You better keep up then, Gavin.”
May you like
My name is Allison Palmer, and I won my life back.
THE END.
