Chapter 7 - My Doctor Had Been Poisoning My Recovery for Eight Years—And I Let Him Believe I Was Still ParalyzedDr. Mason arrived.
He examined me.
“You're showing no meaningful improvement.”
I nodded.
“Of course.”
He smiled.
“I'm afraid you'll never walk.”
Inside, I wanted to laugh.
Instead I looked broken.
After he left, Lily whispered:
“He lies.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“His shoes.”
She stared.
“What about them?”
“He was in the garden.”
I looked.
Mud on his soles.
The garden had been locked.
He had been there recently.
I checked security.
He had entered under a maintenance badge.
I confronted him.
He panicked.
Then tried to run.
My men stopped him.
He confessed.
Rafael had paid him.
The treatment was designed to prevent recovery.
Each injection.
Each medication.
Each false diagnosis.
I listened.
Eight years.
Nine doctors.
Ninety-nine opinions.
All compromised by money.
I asked:
“Why did you do it?”
He cried.
“Because they told me you would die if you walked.”
“Who?”
“Rafael.”
Then he said something worse.
“Your wife was supposed to die too.”
I turned cold.
“What?”
“She didn't.”
“Why?”
“Because another doctor helped her escape.”
I looked at Audrey.
She nodded.
She knew.
Then the doctor whispered:
“Rafael isn't the leader.”
I stared.
“Who is?”
He gave me one name.
“Your father.”
My father had been dead for twenty years.
Again.
Another ghost.
I almost laughed.
“Everyone in my family seems immortal.”
May you like
The doctor shook his head.
“Your father is alive.”
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