Chapter 7 - The Doctor Who Couldn't Sign
Vega photographed the fax. "Nobody releases Lily anywhere," she told the nurse, "without speaking to her mother and hospital security."
The evaluation described me as delusional, violent, and obsessed with a man who had rejected me. Under the signature was the name Dr. Howard Sloane.
"He treated my mother," Nathan said. "He died last winter."
The fax claimed Sloane examined me yesterday.
Lily had fallen asleep against my good shoulder. I moved carefully, terrified that even a quiet breath might wake her.
"How much can they fake?" I asked.
"Enough to frighten you," Vega said. "Not enough to make it true. We'll verify the doctor's records."
Nathan stood up. "I'll hire someone independent to review the estate. No more Pierce."
"You should have done that when I disappeared," I said.
He took the hit without looking away.
"You're right. I let my father decide what your silence meant. I convinced myself you'd chosen it because that was easier than admitting he might have lied."
"I used to watch the mailbox every Thursday," I said. "I thought if you got even one letter, you'd come."
"I never got one."
The words did not erase five years of carrying the rent, the fevers, the loneliness. They did tell me where to start looking.
At midnight, Mrs. Alvarez called. Nathan answered on speaker.
"Mr. Cole, they're taking boxes out of your father's study," she said. "Mr. Pierce and Miss Hale. I told them you wouldn't approve."
"Lock the front doors," Nathan said.
"They have their own keys. And they're asking for the red file."
"What red file?"
May you like
Mrs. Alvarez lowered her voice. "The one your father told me to burn after he died. I couldn't do it."
A door slammed behind her, and the call went dead.
