“No, I’m sure this is the right room. We were assigned to birthing 3. Emergency Registration was bringing her up when I went out to get you.”

“Well, there’s some screwup,” I say, and I’m hoping that’s all it is—a simple screwup.

Tracy Anne and I head quickly toward the nurses’ station. I’m certain we’re both thinking the worst: have we escalated from missing babies to missing mothers?

My usual good luck: Nurse Charming, Deborah Franklin, is on duty at the central desk.

“Where’s the patient who’s supposed to be in birthing room 3, Katra Kovac? I can’t find her,” I say.

“Did you look in the bed?” Franklin says.

I’m in no mood for Franklin’s sarcasm right now. “Do you know where Katra Kovac is?” I say slowly and loudly. “Did you see her brought up from Registration?”

“I surely did. She was there a few minutes ago. In fact, one of your people was with her.”

“Who was it?”

“I wasn’t watching,” says Nurse Franklin.

I don’t have time for bullshit. I spring into action. “Let’s start looking, Trace,” I say.

Tracy Anne and I each take a side of the hospital corridor. We scurry unannounced into patients’ rooms, bathrooms, visitors’ lounges, even an archaic room with a small brass sign on it that says FATHERS’ WAITING ROOM. We look in custodian closets and the food storage rooms that hold the thousands of packets of peanut-butter crackers, Jell-O cups, and apple juice.

Now I’m a bit frightened. Okay, I’m really frightened.

“What should we do?” Tracy Anne asks.

“What do you think? We keep looking, and we call for backup.”

We rush to the nurses’ station. I tell Nurse Franklin to call Security.

“I already have,” she says. “They’re on their way.”

Two men from GUH Security appear almost instantaneously. I know these two guys, but I certainly do not know the other two people with them: a uniformed NYC female cop and a grumpy-looking guy in a rumpled gray suit. The woman looks ready to work. The guy looks just the opposite: sullen, tired. He has one of those slightly paunchy dad bods. He’s got to be the detective.

“I’m Detective Leon Blumenthal, NYPD.” Was I right or was I right? “This is Officer Cindy Hazard. Let’s get started.”

Apparently he doesn’t care to know our names. I don’t even try.

“Missing person is seventeen, dark blond hair, wearing hospital gown,” he says. “Let’s search this floor first.”

“We’ve already done that,” I say.

“And you are…?”

I guess he’s changed his mind. He does want an intro. “Midwife Lucy Ryuan.”

“And you found nothing and no one?”

“Well, we certainly didn’t find Katra Kovac.”

“Well, why don’t we just take one more crack at it. I already have a team moving hard through the hospital,” he says. “Let’s go.”