Chapter 2 - WHAT THE CAMERA SAW
Marina backed away from the library before the men opened the door. She recognized the second voice from her orientation: Dr. Elias Hart, Dante's private rehabilitation specialist.
She returned to the guest room, locked it, and wrote the words in a little blue notebook she kept with her nursing supplies. She had spent six years documenting medication errors. She knew the difference between a suspicion and evidence.
At seven the next morning, Dante sat at breakfast while a maid tried to place toast beside his coffee.
"I said I'm not hungry," he snapped.
The maid's hands shook. Marina took the tray and set it down herself.
"Your wound needs protein. You can be angry and eat eggs at the same time."
"Do you lecture everyone?"
"Only patients who insist on making my work harder."
He almost smiled again. Then a sharp spasm crossed his face.
"What was that?" Marina asked.
"Nothing."
His right foot had moved beneath the table.
Marina rolled back the blanket with his permission. "Try pushing your toes down."
"I've tried eight months."
"Try once for me."
His jaw tightened. A faint tremor ran through his big toe. Marina felt a rush of hope she carefully kept off her face.
"Did you see it?" he whispered.
"I saw a movement. We need a proper examination, not a miracle story."
Dr. Hart entered without knocking. His smile was smooth and empty.
"Mr. Montenegro, you're due for your morning treatment."
He carried a small black case. When he opened it, Marina glimpsed an unlabeled syringe.
"What's in that?" she asked.
"Prescribed medication."
"Name and dose?"
Hart looked at Dante. "You really are letting staff question me now?"
"Answer her," Dante said.
Hart shut the case. "We'll discuss the regimen privately."
After he left, Gabriel appeared beside the doorway. His eyes flicked toward the camera above the dining-room arch.
"Don't trust the house computer," he murmured as he passed Marina. "The system records who opens every file."
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That afternoon she noticed a maintenance worker changing the camera outside her room. On its small monitor, her guest bedroom appeared from an angle no hallway camera should have reached.
Someone had been watching her sleep.
