Room 414 smelled of iodine and old flowers. Dana, the night nurse, set down the morning chart and stopped cold. Mara was already there, her administrator badge catching the light, her lanyard crooked like she'd dressed in a hurry. In the bed lay Eli Voss, oxygen tube under his nose, eyes half open. "You shouldn't be in here," Dana said. Mara didn't move. "We need to talk before he wakes up."

"Talk about what?" Dana asked, keeping her voice low. Mara glanced at the door, then back. "Eli was about to file a report on this hospital. On me. Three patients got the wrong meds last year, and I buried it." Dana's stomach dropped. The man in the bed was a whistleblower, and her boss had just confessed.

"So why tell me?" Dana said. "You think I'll help you cover it up?" Mara pulled a folded paper from her blazer. "Eli's report. I took it from his bag last night. If it disappears, the investigation dies with him. I need you to shred it."

Dana held the report over the trash bin in the corner, near the box of gloves. Her hands shook. Thirty years of nursing, one steady paycheck, one boss who could end her career. "If I do this," she said slowly, "I own you. You answer to me from now on." Mara nodded, desperate. Dana lit the corner of the page.

The page curled black and dropped into the bin, gone. Mara sagged with relief, and that's when Dana saw the small red light on the wall. The new patient cameras, installed last month, the ones Mara herself had approved. Every second was recorded. Dana started to laugh, then stopped, because now she was on the tape too.