Chapter 5: The Doctor Who Refused to Lie
Baylor University Medical Center smelled of disinfectant, coffee, and the kind of fear people tried desperately to hide.
James drove.
Eleanor sat beside me in the back seat, holding my handbag while I clutched Robert's letter.
Nobody spoke for the first fifteen minutes.
Then I turned toward my sister.
"Eleanor, I need you to answer one question.""
She looked at me.
"Anything.""
"Did Robert ever tell you that Brielle was involved in the missing money?""
Eleanor stared through the window.
"No.""
"Are you sure?""
"He never accused her. He actually worried that Richard might use her.""
I looked down at my hands.
My daughter had always wanted expensive things. Designer handbags, luxury vacations, the newest cars.
But I had never thought of her as someone capable of stealing from her own family.
"Why would Richard target her?""
Eleanor sighed.
"Because Brielle trusted him. He knew she wanted to marry James. He knew she'd do almost anything to keep that future.""
I closed my eyes.
A memory returned.
Four months earlier, Brielle had visited me after one of my chemotherapy sessions.
She had sat on the edge of my bed and asked whether Robert had left behind any other investments.
At the time, I had thought she was simply curious.
Now I wondered whether she had already been planning something.
When we arrived at the hospital, Dr. Helen Carter was waiting outside her office.
She was a woman in her early fifties with short brown hair and a serious expression.
"Margaret," she said, immediately taking my hand.
"I'm so sorry.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Please tell me what's happening.""
She led us inside.
James closed the door.
Dr. Carter placed two medical reports on her desk.
"The first is your actual medical assessment. The second was submitted to an insurance company three weeks ago.""
I examined them.
Both carried my name.
But the second report described a completely different medical condition.
It claimed that my cancer had spread to my liver, lungs, and bones.
It also stated that I had refused further treatment.
"That's not true," I said.
"No," Dr. Carter replied.
"It's entirely false.""
She pointed to the signature.
"I never signed this.""
James leaned forward.
"Can you prove it?""
"Absolutely. Our hospital keeps electronic records of every medical report issued under a physician's credentials. This document was never created in our system.""
"Who accessed Margaret's records?"" Eleanor asked.
Dr. Carter hesitated.
"We have identified three unauthorized access attempts.""
"Three?"" I repeated.
"Two came through an external insurance portal. The third used a temporary patient-access authorization.""
James frowned.
"Who signed that authorization?""
Dr. Carter turned her computer screen toward us.
I read the name.
Brielle Wilson.
My own daughter.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
James rubbed his forehead.
"She had access to the records?""
"She claimed she needed them to assist with her mother's insurance arrangements," Dr. Carter explained.
"But the authorization did not permit her to alter or distribute medical information.""
I looked at the doctor.
"Did someone deliberately make it appear that I was dying?""
Dr. Carter folded her hands.
"That's what the evidence suggests.""
"Why?""
She glanced at James.
Then at Eleanor.
"I believe you should speak with the insurance company's investigator before drawing conclusions.""
James stood.
"I want the policy canceled.""
Dr. Carter nodded.
"That's already underway. However, there's something else you should know.""
She opened another file.
"Your medical records include an emergency contact change made approximately five months ago.""
I frowned.
"I never changed my emergency contact.""
"Your sister Eleanor was removed. Brielle was added.""
I looked at my sister.
She seemed as shocked as I was.
"Why would anyone do that?"" I asked.
Dr. Carter explained that the person making the change had also requested that certain medical updates be sent to an external email address.
James leaned closer.
"Whose email?""
Dr. Carter read it aloud.
It belonged to an account associated with Richard Whitmore's investment company.
My hands began shaking.
"They were monitoring my treatment?""
"It appears someone wanted regular updates about your condition.""
I thought about all those chemotherapy sessions.
All those mornings when I had sat alone in a treatment room, believing my illness was a private battle.
Someone had been watching.
Someone had been waiting.
James stepped toward the window.
"My father knew about the cancer before I did.""
I couldn't answer.
Dr. Carter continued.
"Margaret, there is one more discrepancy. The insurance application stated that you had been diagnosed with terminal disease months before your actual diagnosis.""
I looked up.
"What?""
She placed a final document on the desk.
The application had been prepared four months before my cancer was discovered.
That meant someone had planned the insurance arrangement before anyone knew I was sick.
I stared at the date.
Then I remembered something.
Four months earlier, Richard had visited my house.
He had brought flowers and asked whether I had updated my will.
He had also asked about Robert's life insurance.
At the time, I had thought he was simply being considerate.
Now I understood that the questions might have been anything but innocent.
James turned toward me.
"Margaret, did you ever sign anything Richard brought to your house?""
I shook my head.
"Not that I remember.""
Eleanor suddenly stood.
"Wait.""
She opened her handbag and pulled out a small photograph.
It showed Robert standing beside a woman outside a courthouse.
I recognized the woman immediately.
She was younger than Eleanor and me, perhaps in her early fifties.
I had seen her once at Robert's funeral.
"Who is that?"" James asked.
Eleanor looked at me.
"Her name is Patricia.""
"Why are you showing me this?""
Eleanor's voice trembled.
"Because Robert told me she was the original owner of the money Richard stole.""
I stared at the photograph.
"Who is she?""
Eleanor swallowed.
"Your mother had another daughter.""
The words seemed to echo around the room.
I shook my head.
"That's impossible.""
"No, Margaret. Your mother gave birth to a child before you were born. The family was told she died shortly after birth.""
My knees weakened.
"You're saying I have another sister?""
Eleanor nodded.
"Robert found her years ago. He discovered that the inheritance your mother left behind had been intended for both daughters.""
James looked stunned.
"How much?""
Eleanor answered quietly.
"More than nine hundred thousand dollars.""
I looked at the photograph again.
Then I noticed something written on the back.
A date.
And a handwritten sentence in Robert's familiar script.
Patricia must never discover what Richard did to her daughter.
I looked up.
"What daughter?""
Eleanor's face crumpled.
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.
I answered.
A woman's voice came through.
"Mrs. Wilson? My name is Patricia.""
I couldn't breathe.
May you like
She continued.
"I think we need to talk about your daughter Brielle.""
