Chapter 4 - THE MEDICINE THAT WASN’T HERS
Mom stared at the photograph for a long time.
The woman standing beside my father was young, perhaps twenty-five, with dark hair and a serious expression. She held a baby wrapped in a white blanket.
My father looked no older than thirty.
The picture had been taken before Julian or I was born.
“Who is she?” I asked.
Mom touched the edge of the photograph.
“Her name was Rebecca.”
“And the baby?”
Her fingers began trembling.
Before she answered, the door opened and a hospital aide brought in dinner. Mom immediately slipped the photograph beneath her blanket.
I waited until we were alone again.
“Mom, Chloe told me you had been lying to me.”
“Chloe tells lies for pleasure.”
“Is this one of them?”
Mom looked toward the dark hospital window.
“The baby was your father’s son.”
I felt the words rather than understood them.
“Dad had another child?”
“Before we married.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer came too quickly.
“Mom.”
She turned toward me, and I saw something deeper than fear in her eyes.
Guilt.
“Your father believed the child died,” she said. “Rebecca disappeared after asking him for money. Years later, she contacted me.”
“Why you?”
“Because your father was sick. His first heart attack had already happened. She threatened to tell him the boy was alive unless I paid her.”
“Did you?”
“For years.”
The missing money suddenly seemed connected to a much older secret.
“Did Julian find out?”
“I don’t know. I kept the letters in a bank box.”
“Which bank?”
She shook her head.
“I can’t remember.”
I knew the medication could be affecting her memory, but I also knew when my mother was hiding something.
Before I could press further, Maya entered the room carrying a tablet and a stack of financial summaries.
She waited until Mom fell asleep before speaking.
“We’ve traced one point four million dollars so far,” she said.
My stomach dropped.
“From where?”
“Two investment accounts, the sale of the lake cabin, and a home-equity loan taken against this house.”
“Where did the money go?”
“Most of it passed through Graywater Holdings.”
I recognized the name from the cashbox documents.
“Who owns it?”
“A layered set of limited-liability companies. We’re working on it.”
“Julian?”
“Possibly. But there were payments to Dr. Pierce, Silver Pines Memory Center, a private notary service, and someone identified only by the initials R.S.”
Richard Sloan’s initials were R.S.
I immediately rejected the thought.
Thousands of people shared those initials.
“Mom’s physician letter?”
“Forged license number. The signature appears genuine, but Dr. Pierce has stopped answering calls.”
Maya sat beside me.
“You need to prepare for what comes next.”
“What does that mean?”
“Julian’s attorney filed a complaint against you with the state inspector general. They’re accusing you of using your position to obtain an emergency order without proper review.”
“Judge Thorne reviewed the evidence.”
“I know. They’re also claiming you coached your mother, staged the photographs, and stole estate documents.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Absurd accusations still require answers.”
I looked at Mom sleeping beneath the hospital blanket.
“They’re trying to turn me into the suspect.”
“They’re trying to create enough noise that nobody hears your mother.”
The following morning, Dr. Pierce’s car was discovered at the airport.
Security footage showed him boarding a flight to Mexico City six hours after Julian’s arrest.
That afternoon, an anonymous email arrived in my personal inbox.
The message contained a video file.
I called Maya before opening it.
Together, we watched the recording on a secure computer.
The video showed Mom seated at her dining-room table. A stack of documents lay in front of her.
Chloe stood behind the camera.
Julian leaned over Mom’s shoulder.
“Sign it,” he said.
“I want Elena to read it first,” Mom replied.
Julian slammed his hand on the table.
Mom flinched.
“You will sign it now.”
“I don’t understand what it says.”
“It says we’re protecting you.”
Chloe’s voice came from behind the camera.
“Tell her what happens if she refuses.”
Julian grabbed Mom’s wrist.
“You’ll go to Silver Pines. They’ll lock you in a room where nobody visits. Elena will be told you don’t remember her.”
Mom began crying.
Then she signed.
The video ended.
It was devastating evidence.
It was also suspicious.
“Why would they record themselves?” I asked.
“Control,” Maya said. “They may have intended to use selected portions to show she signed willingly.”
“Who sent it?”
“The address is untraceable so far.”
The file metadata listed the original creation device as a laptop registered to the attorney general’s office.
More specifically, it listed my employee identification number.
My blood turned cold.
“That’s impossible.”
Maya examined the screen.
“Did you ever access a work laptop inside your mother’s house?”
“No.”
“Did Julian have access to your office?”
“Never.”
“Could someone at your office have downloaded the video and altered the metadata?”
“Yes.”
The room became very quiet.
Someone inside my own department might be involved.
Before I could process that possibility, my phone rang.
Deputy Attorney General Sloan was calling.
“Elena,” he said, his voice no longer warm, “do not return to the office.”
“What happened?”
“The inspector general received evidence suggesting you used state equipment to manufacture material in your mother’s case.”
“That evidence was fabricated.”
“Perhaps. Until we know, you’re being placed on administrative leave.”
“Sloan, listen to me—”
“You need an attorney.”
The line went dead.
For nine years, I had prosecuted people who isolated vulnerable adults, manufactured confusion, forged records, and discredited anyone who tried to intervene.
Now the same strategy was being used against me.
Through the glass wall, I saw Mom wake.
She looked toward me with frightened eyes.
I forced myself to smile.
May you like
Because whoever was controlling Graywater Holdings had made one serious mistake.
They believed taking away my badge would take away everything I had learned while wearing it.
