The nurse gave a short nod and backed out of the room. She didn’t return for nearly an hour. When she did, she placed a thick file on the tray table and left without a word. Tula pulled it toward her, unclipped the binder, and began to read.
The pages were clinical, impersonal: vital signs, handwritten notes, lab requisitions. Nothing strange at first. Ashley watched from the chair, saying nothing. Then, sandwiched between two ultrasound reports, Tula found it—a single page that didn’t belong. Patient: Tula Afsana. DOB: 07/05/1980. Her eyes narrowed. Her breath slowed.