Who Doesn’t Belong In Here?

Kaelin's POV

Married for five years, I always trusted my husband Jasper's excuses.

He had been stationed at our branch hospital for two years without returning home, claiming his administrative duties were simply too overwhelming.

That was until a whistleblower’s letter exposed the tip of an iceberg: a major patient privacy breach in the maternity ward—a scandal he had casually pinned on an intern nurse.

Facing my father’s suspicions, I decided to head to the branch hospital to investigate for myself, keeping the trip a secret from Jasper.

The moment I stepped into the hospital, I collided head-on with absurdity.

Jasper’s mistress, Zayda, was wearing a custom-tailored lab coat despite having zero medical credentials. She was making fun of a pregnant woman's ultrasound and waltzing in and out of clinical areas as she pleased.

Any staff member who dared to step in faced immediate retaliation. The culprit held all the power, while the innocent took the fall.

Intimidated by the hospital president's authority, everyone suffered in silence. But as the tension finally boiled over and Zayda's arrogance peaked, my husband was racing back from a meeting just to back up his mistress.

I stood my ground, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.

——

Jasper had insisted on going to Haven-Crest Memorial to gain management experience. Two years had passed, and he had yet to return to headquarters, always citing his workload.

My father slid a whistleblower’s letter across his desk to me.

"Someone waltzed into the delivery room, took selfies, and posted them online, leaking patient privacy. Did you know about this?"

"Yes," I answered, defending Jasper. "He ran an investigation. It was a new intern who didn't know the rules. The hospital fired her, compensated the mother, and issued a formal apology."

"An intern, huh?" My father stared at me. "Did you read the investigation report with your own eyes?"

I paused.

Jasper had simply told me it was handled, adding that he didn't want trivial hospital matters bothering me. I chose to trust my husband.

"No. But Jasper wouldn't lie to me about something like this."

My father didn't push. He just locked the letter in his drawer.

With the healthcare group's routine inspection approaching, I volunteered. "Let me go to Haven-Crest this time. I want to see exactly why he’s so reluctant to come home."

After a moment of silence, my father handed me an inspector's badge.

"Just don't warn him you're coming."

The next day, I walked into the hospital under the guise of a corporate inspector. The moment I reached the maternity ward, I saw a crowd of medical staff clustered outside the department head's office.

In the center stood a woman in a perfectly tailored lab coat with no name tag. She was holding up a pregnant patient's ultrasound scan, squinting at it under the lights.

"This is really a baby?" she laughed out loud. "Its head is huge, and its arms and legs look like little twigs. It looks like an alien from a sci-fi movie."

No one joined in. She simply held it higher.

"Think the mom would cry if she saw this? If my kid looked like this, I definitely wouldn't have it."

Head Nurse Marcellina Ruiz stepped forward, snatched the scan out of her hands, and immediately flipped it over to hide the name and patient ID.

"That's enough, Ms. Zayda."

"This is confidential patient medical information, not a joke," Marcellina said, keeping her voice tight. "The mother is in the waiting room right next door. Who takes responsibility if she hears you and has an emotional breakdown? What happens to the hospital's reputation if this leaks?"

Zayda Voss rolled her eyes impatiently.

"I was just joking. If she can't even handle a single sentence, how is she supposed to handle childbirth?"

"Please leave the maternity ward."

"Are you giving me orders?" Zayda tugged at her collar. "Jasper let me come here to learn. What right do you have to kick me out?"

Marcellina gripped the paper tightly, keeping her tone suppressed.

"This is a hospital. Anyone handling patient records must have the proper credentials and adhere to privacy laws."

"Then go complain to Jasper." Zayda shrugged. "Let's see whose side he takes."

She pushed open the door to the department head's office and walked in like she owned the place. The crowd immediately scattered. Not a single person dared to stop her.

I grabbed a young nurse passing by.

"Who is she?"

The nurse immediately pressed a finger to her lips.

"Keep your voice down. I'm Emily, I just transferred here." She cast a nervous glance at the closed door. "Zayda is the President's girlfriend. Everyone knows she's untouchable."

My fingertips went ice cold.

"The President's girlfriend?"

"President Jasper Hale," Emily whispered. "Usually, she just hangs out in his office playing games and watching shows. But today he's at a medical summit, so she's wandering the halls."

A medical resident overheard us and flashed a bitter smile.

"You're probably wondering why she gets to wear a lab coat, aren't you?"

I turned to him.

"Zayda said she dreamed of being a doctor as a kid. So the President had a coat custom-made for her and lets her 'experience' the job on the clock."

"Does she have any medical licenses?"

"Absolutely none," his voice dropped lower. "But who's going to stop her? The last person who tried to keep her out of a delivery room got written up and chased out of the hospital."

The whistleblower letter slammed back into my mind.

Was the fired intern really the one who leaked the maternity photos?

My father had warned me that Haven-Crest was being run into the ground. I had assumed it was just his frustration talking because Jasper kept refusing to return to HQ.

Now I realized he had been putting it politely.

Jasper was indulging his mistress, letting her play pretend, rummage through sensitive files, and mock unborn children. The professionals who adhered to the rules were forced to back down—and even take the fall for her incompetence.

I stared at that closed door, a dull ache throbbing in my temples.

The chaos at this hospital was far worse than the letter could have ever described.