Episode 14: Beyond the Bloodline
Ngozi’s POV
The days following my roommates’ intervention were a mix of relief and dread. Their unwavering support gave me strength, but the lingering questions about my predicament loomed over me like a dark cloud. The lawsuit against the hospital had rekindled my curiosity and suspicion. Something wasn’t adding up, and I needed answers.
The next morning, I summoned all the courage I could muster and returned to the hospital. Amaka and Chioma insisted on accompanying me, their protective energy filling the car ride with small talk to distract me from my nerves.
Walking into the hospital again felt like stepping into a crime scene. Every face, every corridor brought back memories of confusion and humiliation. But I reminded myself why I was here—answers.
At the reception, I asked to see someone from patient services. After a brief wait, a woman in a crisp white coat introduced herself as the patient relations officer and escorted us into a private office.
“How can I assist you, Miss Ngozi?” she asked kindly, gesturing for me to sit.
Taking a deep breath, I launched into my story. “I was here a few weeks ago for a checkup. Since then, I’ve been accused of undergoing a procedure I never had. My life has been turned upside down, and I believe there’s been a mix-up with my file. I need to know the truth.”
Her brows furrowed as she pulled up my records on the computer. After a moment, she frowned deeply, scrolling through the entries.
“This is very strange,” she murmured, half to herself.
“What is it?” Amaka asked, leaning forward anxiously.
“There are duplicate entries in your file,” the officer explained. “One with your name and details, but another with conflicting information—like marital status. It seems someone merged your file with another patient’s.”
My heart pounded. “Whose file is it? Can you tell me?”
“I’m afraid I can’t share that information due to confidentiality,” she replied, her tone apologetic. “But this is clearly an error that needs rectifying.”
I couldn’t contain my frustration. “An error? This ‘error’ has ruined my life! You need to dig deeper and tell me what happened.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll pull the physical records to cross-check the entries. This might take a moment.”
While she stepped out, my friends exchanged curious glances. Chioma spoke first. “Ngozi, what if this mix-up explains everything? What if someone else’s file got swapped with yours?”
Before I could respond, the officer returned, holding a file in her hand. “Miss Ngozi,” she began cautiously, “this file indicates you’ve been here several times, including with a man.”
I froze. “A man?”
“Yes,” she continued. “While I haven’t attended to you personally, I’ve seen you come in with a gentleman. He’s listed here as your husband.”
“What?” I stammered, my voice trembling. “I’ve only been here once, and I came alone. I don’t have a husband!”
Amaka and Chioma stared at me, their expressions shifting from confusion to disbelief.
“Wait,” Amaka said slowly. “Ngozi, are you hiding something from us? Because this doesn’t make sense.”
Chioma added, “You always told us you didn’t have a boyfriend, let alone a husband. But now the hospital says you’ve been coming here with a man? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking. “I swear I’ve never been here with anyone. There’s been a mistake. You have to believe me!”
The officer raised a hand. “Miss Ngozi, can I speak with you privately? Your friends can wait outside.”
Amaka frowned but stood, her disappointment evident. “Fine. We’ll leave. But, Ngozi, we deserve the truth when this is over.”
As the door closed behind them, I turned back to the officer, my composure unraveling. “Please, ma’am, I’m telling the truth. I came here to treat an infection, and weeks later, I was told I was pregnant. I’ve never been with a man. Is there any medical explanation for this?”
The officer’s face softened. “I understand your distress, but this file complicates things. If someone impersonated you, we need to verify their identity. However, I can’t share all the details due to confidentiality. Leave your contact information, and I’ll escalate this to the medical director. We’ll contact you once we have clarity.”
As I left the office, Amaka and Chioma were waiting in the hallway, their arms crossed.
“Well?” Amaka demanded.
“It’s… complicated,” I said hesitantly.
“Complicated?” Chioma shot back. “Ngozi, we’re your friends. We’ve stood by you through everything, but you’re shutting us out. Do you even trust us anymore?”
Their words stung, but I had no response. They stormed off, leaving me alone in the hospital corridor.
That night, as I lay in bed, the events of the day replayed in my mind. The officer’s words, the duplicate files, the mention of a man—I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing a vital piece of the puzzle.
My friends’ disappointment weighed heavily on me, but I couldn’t blame them. Even I couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
The room was silent except for the sound of my breathing. My thoughts swirled, and one question echoed louder than the rest:
Who was the man they claimed to see me with?
And why did it feel like the truth was just out of reach?
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