My heart almost skipped a beat.
“Your husband Ethan is alive, Dr. Peterson,” the officer said gently. “But he’s in a different hospital.”
I suddenly felt a sigh of relief. Ethan was alive. Alive. But then the officer kept talking.
“There was confusion with the medical records,” he explained. “The man here had Ethan’s ID, so he was brought in under your husband’s name. Ethan… was sent elsewhere.”
My stomach twisted. “Where? Where is he?”