Chapter 6
“I’m not having surgery.”
The words came out of my mouth before anyone else could speak.
Mom knelt beside me.
“No one is doing anything to you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Daniel added, “Nothing happens unless you and your mother understand it and agree.”
Victoria said, “That may be premature.”
Daniel turned.
“Leave.”
“Daniel.”
“Leave.”
“This concerns my granddaughter.”
“You lost the right to use that word.”
Victoria became quiet.
I hated that sentence.
Not because I liked her.
I didn’t.
But because every adult around me seemed to think family was something they could give and take away from each other.
Father.
Grandmother.
Daughter.
Like words were keys.
Like whoever held the keys owned the person.
Security escorted Victoria toward the elevator.
Before she left, she said, “Daniel, Charles is dangerous when cornered.”
Daniel answered, “Then you should have stopped protecting him years ago.”
“I didn’t know.”
“That excuse is getting old.”
The elevator doors closed.
Mom exhaled.
Dr. Patel led us back into the room.
“I want to be very clear,” she said. “Emergency privileges do not mean surgery is scheduled.”
“Then why request them?” Mom asked.
“So Dr. Warren can evaluate Lily while he’s here.”
“Who invited him?”
“I’m trying to find out.”
Daniel’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
“My office.”
He answered.
“What?”
A man spoke loudly enough that I caught pieces.
Board.
Police.
Whitmore.
Accounts frozen.
Daniel’s voice tightened.
“Slow down.”
He walked away.
Mom sat beside me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Fair answer.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
That made me smile a little.
At least she wasn’t pretending.
I leaned against her.
“Did you really think Daniel didn’t want me?”
“Yes.”
“For eight years?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hate him?”
Mom took a long time.
“Some days.”
“What about other days?”
“I tried not to think about him.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.”
I waited.
Finally she whispered, “Some days I missed him so much I hated myself.”
Daniel had returned quietly enough that neither of us noticed.
He stopped several feet away.
Mom heard him.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“I’m glad I did.”
“Don’t make it into more than it is.”
“I won’t.”
But his voice sounded softer.
His phone rang again.
This time he ignored it.
I asked, “How did you meet?”
Mom groaned.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat across from us.
“We were trapped in an elevator.”
Mom corrected him.
“You broke the elevator.”
“I pressed a button.”
“You kicked the panel.”
“After forty minutes.”
“Thirty.”
“Felt like forty.”
I smiled.
“Then what?”
“Your mother threatened to sue my company.”
“I was late for an interview.”
“At my company.”
I laughed.
“You interviewed her?”
“No. She told me I was arrogant before she knew who I was.”
“You were arrogant.”
“I was twenty-six.”
“You’re still arrogant.”
“Less efficiently.”
For one minute, they sounded like people who had known each other before everything became painful.
Then footsteps approached.
The door opened.
A man with a European accent introduced himself.
“Dr. Elias Warren.”
Mom stood immediately.
“Who brought you here?”
“I came because I received new imaging.”
“From whom?”
“An attorney.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Charles Whitmore?”
Dr. Warren hesitated.
“That is confidential.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Then we’re done.”
Dr. Warren looked confused.
Mom said, “Someone illegally accessed my daughter’s records.”
The doctor’s tone changed.
“I was told the family had authorized the transfer.”
“We didn’t.”
“I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Mom moved in front of me.
“You flew across an ocean because someone sent you stolen scans of my eight-year-old daughter.”
Dr. Warren’s voice became careful.
“I flew here because those scans may show something we did not see before.”
I sat straighter.
“What?”
Mom said, “Lily.”
“No, I want to know.”
Dr. Warren spoke to me.
“Your original injury damaged your optic nerves.”
“I know.”
“For years, imaging suggested the damage was complete.”
“Okay.”
“The new scans appear different.”
Mom asked, “Different how?”
“There may be surviving nerve fibers.”
My heart started pounding.
“Enough to see?”
“I don’t know.”
“Enough to fix?”
“I don’t know.”
“You say that a lot.”
He laughed gently.
“Good doctors should.”
Daniel asked, “What treatment are you proposing?”
“Not surgery today.”
“Then what?”
“Tests.”
“What kind?”
“High-resolution nerve imaging. Electrical response studies. Genetic screening.”
Mom snapped, “She has already had genetic screening.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Dr. Warren stopped.
Wrong answer.
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“You’ve seen her full file.”
“Yes.”
“Without consent.”
“I believed consent existed.”
Mom asked, “Who told you it did?”
Dr. Warren sighed.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“What exactly did Charles tell you about Lily?”
“He said she was his client’s granddaughter.”
Victoria.
Daniel muttered, “Of course.”
Dr. Warren continued.
“He said the family had been estranged and wanted to remain anonymous while supporting research.”
Mom asked, “Did he tell you Lily’s father didn’t even know she existed?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you I had never consented?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you he had once been my lawyer?”
Dr. Warren went silent.
Daniel looked at him.
“That surprises you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me he had never personally met Lily or her mother.”
Mom sat down hard.
“He lied.”
Daniel asked, “How much money did Whitmore give your program?”
Dr. Warren hesitated.
“Approximately nine million dollars over four years.”
Victoria had said eleven million was missing.
Daniel noticed too.
“What happened to the other two?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel called someone.
“Freeze every payment linked to Warren’s institute.”
Dr. Warren objected.
“Those funds support children.”
“Then cooperate.”
“I am cooperating.”
“Then give my attorneys every document Charles sent you.”
Mom snapped, “Your attorneys?”
Daniel stopped.
She continued.
“This is not your company crisis. This is Lily.”
“You’re right.”
He corrected himself.
“I’ll give the documents to the police and to any lawyer Sarah chooses.”
That seemed to surprise Mom.
“Thank you.”
It was the first kind thing she had said to him.
He noticed.
So did I.
Dr. Warren asked me if I wanted to do the tests.
Mom immediately said, “We’re not deciding today.”
“I know,” I said.
Then I asked him, “Will they hurt?”
“One involves small electrodes on your scalp. Uncomfortable, maybe. Not painful.”
“No needles?”
“Possibly one blood draw.”
“I hate needles.”
“So do many doctors.”
“You’re a doctor.”
“Yes.”
“Do you hate them?”
“When they are pointed at me.”
I liked him slightly more after that.
Mom asked for written information.
He agreed.
Then Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
His expression must have changed because Mom asked, “What?”
He turned the screen toward her.
“What is it?” I asked.
Mom didn’t answer.
Daniel did.
“A photo.”
“Of what?”
“Our car.”
I felt cold.
“When?”
“Five minutes ago.”
Mom whispered, “Who sent it?”
“Unknown number.”
Another message arrived.
Daniel read it silently.
“What does it say?”
His voice turned dark.
“Tell Victoria to stop digging.”
Mom asked, “Anything else?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yes.”
He looked toward me.
“Tell Sarah that curiosity has consequences.”
Mom stood.
“We’re going home.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“Whoever sent that knows the car.”
“I’m aware.”
“They may know your address.”
“They already do if Victoria has been watching us.”
“This isn’t my mother.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she doesn’t threaten anonymously.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
He called security.
Within minutes, two officers were back in the room.
The unknown number was forwarded to detectives.
Mom argued about staying somewhere else.
Daniel offered a hotel.
She refused.
He offered one of his company apartments.
She refused harder.
Finally Dr. Patel said the hospital could place us temporarily in a family residence normally used for patients undergoing long treatments.
Mom accepted one night.
Daniel asked, “Can I have security outside?”
Mom hesitated.
Then looked at me.
“Yes.”
He arranged it.
That evening, I lay on a narrow bed while Mom sat nearby.
I could hear her typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for a lawyer.”
“Another one?”
“Yes.”
“Not Charles.”
“Definitely not Charles.”
I smiled.
Then someone knocked.
Mom froze.
A guard spoke from outside.
“Ms. Bennett? Delivery.”
“We didn’t order anything.”
“It’s a package addressed to Lily.”
My skin prickled.
Mom opened the door but told me to stay back.
Paper rustled.
“What is it?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mom?”
Daniel arrived from the hallway.
“What happened?”
Mom whispered, “It’s a cupcake.”
Silence.
A chocolate cupcake.
Inside the box was an envelope.
Daniel told her not to touch it.
Security called the police.
An officer opened the note using gloves.
“What does it say?” Mom asked.
The officer hesitated.
Then read it.
“You should have taken the money eight years ago.”
Mom stopped breathing.
Daniel whispered, “Charles.”
But there was another line.
The officer continued.
“Now the price is higher.”
And beneath it was a photograph.
May you like
This one had been taken less than an hour earlier.
It showed me sleeping in the hospital bed.
