Chapter 3: The Doctor at My Front Door
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The doorbell rang a third time.
Sophie buried her face against my leg.
"Is that the bad man, Daddy?""
I looked down.
"Have you seen him before?""
She nodded.
"One time. Mommy let him into your bedroom when you were sleeping.""
My chest tightened.
"When?""
"Last Thursday.""
I looked toward Vanessa.
She was standing near the kitchen island, gripping her phone so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
"Vanessa.""
She didn't look at me.
"Don't open the door.""
"Why?""
"Because he's dangerous.""
I stared at her.
"You invited him here, didn't you?""
She shook her head quickly.
"No.""
"Then why are you afraid?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Michael, please. You need to understand that I was trying to protect you.""
"Protect me from what?""
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
The doorbell rang again.
I moved toward the hallway.
Vanessa grabbed my arm.
"Don't go near him!""
I pulled free.
"Get away from me.""
I carried Sophie upstairs and locked her inside her bedroom.
"Stay here, sweetheart. Don't open the door for anyone except me.""
She grabbed my shirt.
"Promise you'll come back?""
I kissed her forehead.
"I promise.""
When I returned downstairs, I heard Vanessa whispering into her phone.
"He's standing. I don't know how. You need to leave.""
I stopped at the bottom of the staircase.
She turned and nearly dropped the phone.
"Who were you talking to?""
"No one.""
I held out my hand.
"Give me your phone.""
"Michael, no.""
"Give it to me.""
She backed away.
For the first time, I realized that the woman I had married was not simply frightened of being caught.
She was frightened because something had gone wrong with a plan she had expected to work.
I reached for the door.
"Michael, wait!""
I opened it.
Dr. Harrison stood on the porch, wearing a navy jacket over a pale blue shirt. His medical bag rested beside his shoes.
He smiled when he saw me.
"Michael. What a pleasant surprise.""
I didn't move.
"Why are you here?""
His eyes traveled down to my legs.
The smile disappeared.
"You're standing.""
"That's generally what people do when they can walk.""
He forced a laugh.
"That's wonderful. Truly wonderful. Your progress must have been extraordinary.""
"Apparently.""
He glanced over my shoulder.
"Is Vanessa home?""
"She's inside.""
"Excellent. I need to discuss your medication schedule with both of you.""
I looked at the black medical bag.
"What's inside?""
"Routine medical supplies.""
"Show me.""
His smile vanished.
"Michael, I don't think that's necessary.""
"Then you won't mind.""
I stepped aside, allowing him into the entrance hall.
He entered slowly, looking around as if he were inspecting the house.
His eyes settled on the glass of orange juice still sitting on the kitchen counter.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
A tiny movement passed between them.
A glance.
A silent conversation.
I caught it.
"Do you know what's in that glass?"" I asked.
Dr. Harrison looked at me.
"Orange juice, I would assume.""
"That's what my wife says.""
He set his medical bag down.
"Michael, you've been through a traumatic event. Sometimes patients become suspicious of ordinary medical care during recovery.""
"Interesting.""
I took out my phone.
"I've also been experiencing some unusual symptoms. Extreme fatigue. Dizziness. Difficulty concentrating.""
His expression changed slightly.
"Those symptoms can occur after spinal trauma.""
"Even eight months later?""
"Certainly.""
"Can they be caused by medication?""
He paused.
"Depending on the medication, yes.""
I nodded.
"Then perhaps you can explain why my wife has been giving me something I never agreed to take.""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Michael, stop!""
Dr. Harrison's eyes moved toward the kitchen.
"Which medication?""
I showed him the photograph from Sophie's tablet.
He examined it for barely two seconds.
Then he looked away.
"I can't identify anything from such a photograph.""
"That's unfortunate. Because your name is on the bottle.""
His face went pale.
Vanessa whispered, "Michael, please.""
I continued.
"My daughter says she's watched my wife put something into my orange juice every morning. She also says she heard my wife arranging for someone to come here tonight.""
Dr. Harrison closed his medical bag.
"Children misunderstand adult conversations.""
"Then perhaps you can tell me why you were standing outside my house holding a medical bag.""
"I came to evaluate your recovery.""
"Without an appointment?""
He glanced at Vanessa again.
She gave him a tiny shake of her head.
I saw it.
So did he.
The room fell silent.
Then I heard a small voice from the staircase.
"Daddy?""
Sophie was standing on the bottom step.
I turned.
"Sweetheart, I told you to stay upstairs.""
She pointed at the doctor.
"That's him.""
Dr. Harrison stiffened.
Sophie slowly descended two steps.
"He's the man who came into your bedroom when Mommy thought I was sleeping.""
The doctor's face went completely white.
I stepped toward him.
"What did you do to me?""
He raised both hands.
"Michael, calm down.""
Sophie began crying.
"He had a little needle. Mommy told him to make sure you didn't wake up.""
Vanessa suddenly rushed toward her.
"GET BACK UPSTAIRS!""
I caught Vanessa's arm.
"Don't you dare.""
She struggled against me.
"You're making a mistake! You don't know what he promised me!""
The words escaped before she could stop them.
I released her arm.
"What did he promise you?""
She covered her mouth.
Dr. Harrison reached for his medical bag.
I immediately stepped in front of him.
"Don't touch it.""
"Michael, I need to leave.""
"Not until you explain why you were giving me medication without my knowledge.""
He looked at Vanessa.
Then, unexpectedly, he said something that made the entire room go silent.
"She told me you would never recover.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
He swallowed.
"She told me you would remain completely dependent on her. She said you wouldn't be able to verify anything yourself.""
Vanessa began shaking her head.
"That's not what happened.""
The doctor continued.
"And when your rehabilitation results improved, she contacted me again.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"What did she ask you to do?""
He hesitated.
Then he opened his mouth.
"She said if you ever learned to walk again, the original agreement would have to change.""
My phone vibrated.
An incoming message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
There was a photograph of a document bearing Vanessa's signature.
Below it was one sentence:
*MICHAEL, YOUR WIFE DIDN'T JUST WANT YOU DISABLED. SHE WANTED TO INHERIT EVERYTHING YOU OWNED.*
I looked up.
Vanessa was staring at my phone.
May you like
And suddenly, she whispered:
"Who sent you that? He was supposed to be dead.""
