Chapter 6 - THE CANCER CLINIC
We didn't sleep.
At 4:17 in the morning, Natalie sat across from me at the kitchen table while I spread bank statements, photographs, medical records, and copies of forged documents across the surface.
For the first time since I had returned home, we weren't hiding from each other.
We were planning.
Natalie looked exhausted.
But she was no longer trembling.
"What are you going to do?"
I looked at the photograph of Lucas.
"Everything."
She gave me a faint smile.
"That's not a plan."
"It is when you have nothing left to lose."
I picked up my phone.
"I called someone."
"Who?"
"My old friend, Marcus."
Marcus had been a federal financial investigator before starting his own forensic accounting firm. He was the kind of man who could look at a thousand transactions and find the one dollar that didn't belong.
He arrived at six.
I handed him the files.
He didn't ask many questions.
He simply started reading.
Twenty minutes later, his expression changed.
"Where did you get these?"
"From the people living in my house."
Marcus looked at Natalie.
Then back at me.
"This is bigger than theft."
"I know."
"No. You don't."
He pointed at the medical transactions.
"Someone created a financial trail using your wife's identity."
"What does that mean?"
"It means they were laundering money through her medical treatment."
Natalie went pale.
Marcus continued.
"Some of these payments went to companies connected to Victor Hale."
"How much?"
He calculated.
"At least $1.8 million."
Silence.
Natalie whispered:
"Why would they use my name?"
Marcus looked at her.
"Because if the money disappeared, everyone would assume it was medical debt."
I felt sick.
"They made money from my wife's illness."
"Looks like it."
I stood.
"Then we're going to the clinic."
Marcus grabbed my arm.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because that's exactly what they want."
He showed me the message.
COME TO THE CLINIC ALONE.
"That's bait."
"I know."
"Then why are you going?"
I looked at Natalie.
"Because Lucas is there."
Marcus sighed.
"Then we don't go alone."
At 8:30, we arrived near the clinic.
We didn't enter.
Instead, Marcus parked three blocks away.
He had arranged for two investigators to monitor the building.
I sat in the back seat.
Natalie stayed beside me.
My phone rang.
Victor.
I answered.
"Where are you?"
"Almost there."
"You came alone?"
"Yes."
He laughed.
"Good."
I looked at Natalie.
She nodded.
I said:
"Show me my son."
There was silence.
Then Victor said:
"He's not your son."
My jaw tightened.
"You know exactly who he is."
"Do you?"
A photograph appeared on my phone.
Lucas sitting at a table.
He was doing homework.
He looked healthy.
Safe.
Alive.
I nearly broke down.
"Let me speak to him."
"No."
"Then why send the picture?"
"Because I want you to understand something."
"What?"
"You don't own him."
I stared at the screen.
"He's my child."
"Biology doesn't make you a father."
That sentence burned.
Victor continued.
"You left."
"I was told he died."
"Convenient."
"I didn't know."
"Maybe."
"Where is he?"
"Sign the documents."
"No."
"Then you never see him."
I looked at Natalie.
She was crying silently.
I said:
"You want my assets."
"Your assets are worth more than you understand."
"What else?"
Silence.
Then Victor said:
"Your wife's medical records."
My blood ran cold.
"What?"
"I want the original records."
"Why?"
"You'll find out."
The call ended.
Marcus looked at me.
"What did he want?"
"Medical records."
Marcus frowned.
"That's strange."
"Why?"
"Because if he's already been using them, he wouldn't need the originals."
I stared at him.
Unless—
he needed something inside those records.
Something that could destroy him.
We went back to the house.
Diane was waiting.
She looked ten years older.
"Victor called me."
"What did he say?"
"He knows you're investigating."
"Good."
She shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"No. You don't understand."
I placed a folder in front of her.
Inside were copies of the financial records.
"You stole more than two hundred thousand dollars from me."
She said nothing.
"You helped forge property documents."
Silence.
"You participated in hiding my son."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"And you watched my wife suffer."
"I was scared."
"So was Natalie."
Diane whispered:
"I never wanted her to die."
I stared at her.
"Then help me."
She looked up.
"I can tell you where Victor keeps the original records."
"Where?"
"His private archive."
"Where?"
She hesitated.
"Under the old clinic."
I felt a chill.
"There's a basement?"
Diane nodded.
"And there's something else."
"What?"
She whispered:
"Lucas isn't the only child Victor took."
That night, I understood.
This wasn't just about my family.
It was about dozens of families.
And if Victor had built his empire on stolen children and stolen identities—
then taking everything from him would not be enough.
May you like
He needed to lose his freedom.
And I was going to make sure the whole country knew his name.
