Chapter 3 - Uncovering the Rot
The house was perfectly quiet when I unlocked the front door, a stark contrast to the buzzing alarms of the ICU. It smelled like expensive cologne and the vanilla candles I used to light when we were a happy family. Now, it just felt like a crime scene.
I marched straight down the hall to Daniel's locked study. I knew where he kept the spare key—taped under the bottom drawer of the hallway console table. He thought he was so clever. I unlocked the heavy oak door and stepped into his sanctuary. It was immaculate, lined with medical texts and expensive leather furniture.
I went straight for the safe hidden behind a framed diploma. We had set the combination years ago: Lily's birthday. I spun the dial, praying he hadn't changed it. Click. The heavy metal door swung open.
Inside were stacks of cash, a few USB drives, and his black leather-bound ledger. I grabbed the ledger and flipped it open, scanning the meticulously handwritten columns. My eyes widened as I read. This wasn't just about Lily's medication. The ledger detailed months of diverted hospital supplies. He had been skimming expensive, high-demand pharmaceuticals for over a year.
But it was the most recent entry that made the blood freeze in my veins.
Item: Zynomab-C (Lily's med). Recipient: V. Cole. Notes: Cosmetic restructuring trial. High yield.
Cosmetic?
I grabbed one of the USB drives, booted up Daniel's desktop computer, and plugged it in. There were folders upon folders of documents, emails, and photos. I opened a folder labeled "V.C. - Clinic."
My stomach violently turned. Vanessa Cole didn't have an autoimmune disease. She was perfectly healthy. She and Daniel had secretly opened an unlicensed, high-end "longevity and beauty" clinic for wealthy clients. Lily's medication—the drug keeping my daughter alive—had a rare side effect that supposedly promoted rapid cellular regeneration. Daniel wasn't saving his mistress's life. He was stealing a dying child's medication to sell it as a black-market anti-aging serum to rich housewives for tens of thousands of dollars.
"He chose money and his mistress over his daughter's life," I whispered to the empty room.
May you like
Suddenly, I heard the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway outside. I glanced out the window and saw Daniel's black Mercedes pulling in. He was home. He had come to destroy the evidence.
I quickly pulled the USB drive from the computer, shoved it and the ledger into my large tote bag, and closed the safe, spinning the dial to lock it. I smoothed my clothes, took a deep breath to steady my racing heart, and walked out into the hallway just as the front door opened.
