Chapter 64: Vanessa Asked the Wrong Nurse
Vanessa Cole did not wear sunglasses when she walked into the maternity wing.
That was how Olivia knew she wanted to be recognised if the moment became useful.
She wore a cream jumper, soft boots, and the careful tiredness that made strangers lower their voices around her.
A woman who looked harmless could ask questions a shouting person never could.
Olivia watched from behind a vending machine with Daniel on speaker and rage sitting neatly behind her teeth.
She had reached the hospital before Clara, because Daniel had insisted Clara stay at the office until they knew what Vanessa wanted.
“She is at reception,” Olivia whispered.
“Do not confront her,” Daniel said.
“I am not confronting. I am observing with hostile posture.”
“Olivia.”
“Fine. Neutral posture. Deeply hostile soul.”
Across the waiting area, Vanessa rested one hand on her bump and smiled at the nurse behind the desk.
“I am sorry,” Vanessa said. “I know you must be busy.”
The nurse smiled with professional kindness. “We are, but that is all right. How can I help?”
“I am trying to avoid an awkward scene.”
Of course she was.
Vanessa lived inside awkward scenes and billed herself as the victim of the furniture.
“My friend is due here soon,” Vanessa continued. “Clara Bennett. There has been family tension, and I just need to make sure I do not arrive at the wrong time.”
Olivia’s hand tightened around her phone.
Daniel’s voice sharpened. “Record what you can, but stay lawful. Public area only.”
Already recording, Olivia thought.
She angled her phone toward the vending machine glass, catching Vanessa’s reflection rather than lifting it like a weapon.
The nurse checked the screen, then paused.
“I cannot confirm patient details.”
Vanessa gave a soft laugh. “Oh, no, of course. I do not need details. Just whether she is booked on this floor, perhaps. Or if there is a preferred visiting entrance.”
The nurse’s smile cooled by one degree. “I cannot provide that.”
“It is only to keep everyone calm. I am pregnant too.”
There it was.
The shield.
The same hand on the bump.
The same quiet demand that her body make other people careless.
“I understand,” the nurse said. “But we cannot discuss another patient.”
Vanessa leaned closer. “I am not trying to cause trouble. Clara has been under pressure. Sometimes she reacts badly when she feels cornered.”
Olivia nearly stepped out.
Daniel said her name once.
She stayed put.
The nurse’s expression changed again.
Not sympathy now.
Procedure.
“If you have concerns about someone’s safety, you can contact the appropriate services. I cannot share hospital information.”
Vanessa’s smile flickered.
She had expected softness.
She had found policy.
“I am sure Richard Hayes’s office already has the liaison contact,” Vanessa said, almost too casually.
Olivia’s breath stopped.
Daniel went silent on the line.
The nurse looked up fully. “Did you say Richard Hayes?”
Vanessa realised the error one heartbeat too late.
“I meant the family office.”
“The patient’s family office?”
“No. I mean, not exactly.”
The nurse moved her hand away from the keyboard. “Please wait here.”
Vanessa took half a step back. “I really do not need anything.”
“I think our privacy officer should speak with you.”
That word did what evidence always did.
It removed the lighting.
Vanessa’s face emptied.
Olivia sent the recording to Daniel.
His reply came at once.
Leave now. She may spot you.
Olivia was about to move when Vanessa turned.
Their eyes met across the waiting room.
For one frozen second, Vanessa looked not frightened, but furious.
Then she smiled.
Not at Olivia.
At Olivia’s phone.
Vanessa walked out before the privacy officer arrived.
Olivia followed at a distance, careful, public, legal.
Outside, Vanessa climbed into a hired car.
Before the door closed, Olivia saw the screen in her hand.
A photo was open.
Not of Clara.
Not of Ethan.
A floor map of the maternity wing, with one corridor circled in red.