Chapter 2 - THE TWITCH
Nobody spoke for three full seconds.
Then Dean laughed again, louder this time. “Reflex.”
Massimo looked down at his right foot.
His second toe moved once more.
Not much. Barely a twitch.
But he had ordered men killed with less certainty than he felt in that moment.
“I did that,” he said.
Dr. Hale was already kneeling beside the basin. “You may have experienced an involuntary spasm.”
“I told it to move.”
“Massimo—”
“I told it to move.”
Camille stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
He looked up at her. “Do what?”
“Build hope out of nothing.”
Nina slapped the water with delight. “His foot woke up!”
Carla scooped her daughter into her arms. “Okay. That’s enough for today.”
Nina protested, but Carla’s attention was on Dr. Hale.
The doctor had taken the white pill from Massimo’s palm.
Massimo noticed that too.
“Leave it,” he said.
Hale blinked. “Excuse me?”
“The pill.”
Hale hesitated before setting it on the side table.
“Marco,” he said. “Bag that pill. Nobody touches it.”
Dean’s smile faded. “You’re seriously sending it to a lab?”
“Did I ask your opinion?”
“No.”
“Then enjoy your whiskey.”
Dean lifted the glass in mock surrender.
Hale stood. “I should remind you that you’re taking several medications. Mixing in suspicion every time you feel a muscle twitch won’t help your recovery.”
“Funny,” Massimo said. “An hour ago, you said I had no recovery.”
The doctor said nothing.
Massimo noticed Camille looking at Dean.
It was quick. Almost nothing.
A glance.
But it carried a question.
And Dean answered with the smallest shake of his head.
He looked at Carla. “How long has Nina been doing this?”
“The foot bath? About five weeks.”
“Every day?”
“Most days.”
“And the water?”
“Just warm water. Sometimes lavender oil.”
“No medicine?”
Carla stiffened. “Of course not.”
Hale picked up his case. “I’ll return tomorrow morning.”
“No,” Massimo said.
Hale stopped at the door.
“Tomorrow, bring me a complete list of everything you’ve given me since the shooting. Every drug. Every dose. Every change.”
The doctor’s hand tightened around the handle.
“Certainly.”
He left.
That night, long after the mansion had gone quiet, Massimo lay awake staring at the ceiling.
At 2:13 a.m., his bedroom door opened.
May you like
Someone slipped inside.
And went straight for the locked drawer containing his medication.
