Brenda did not blink. She reached for the landline phone on the wall next to the whiteboard.
“This is Room Four Twelve,” Brenda said into the receiver. “I need security and the floor supervisor immediately.”
Martha stood up from her chair, her pearls clicking against her collarbone. “There is no need for that.”
“There is every need,” Brenda said, hanging up the phone with a loud click. “Please step away from the patient.”
Within ten minutes, a tall man in a dark blue uniform walked through the door. His name tag read Officer Vance, and he carried a black leather notepad in his left hand.
“What seems to be the trouble here?” Vance asked, his gravelly voice filling the small room.
Brenda pointed her pen at Tessa. “This woman intentionally disconnected the patient’s heart monitor.”
“It was an accident,” Tessa said, her hands sliding into her coat pockets. “We were just trying to get her signature on some paperwork.”
Vance looked at the bedside table, his eyes lingering on the white plastic folder and the blank consent form. He checked his wristwatch, his face showing a deep impatience.
