Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Photograph
For one terrible second, I couldn't breathe.
Julian held my son against his chest like he had every right in the world.
Leo was sleepy rather than frightened, one tiny fist wrapped around Julian's tie.
That somehow made it worse.
"Give me my baby."
Julian looked down at him.
"He's cute when he's quiet."
"Julian."
"Relax."
He stepped inside and handed Leo to me.
I grabbed him so quickly I nearly stumbled.
Julian's gaze shifted toward the open drawer.
"What are you doing in my uncle's desk?"
"Looking for his insurance information."
"At midnight?"
"He had trouble breathing. I wanted his medical documents."
Julian walked closer.
I could smell expensive cologne.
"You're a caregiver, Mariana. Not a detective."
"I know."
"Do you?"
His hand reached past me.
He closed the drawer.
"Grant's affairs are complicated. You don't want to get confused."
"I don't."
"Good."
He smiled.
"Because people who get confused around my family tend to make expensive mistakes."
He left.
I didn't move until I heard his bedroom door close downstairs.
Then I looked at Leo.
"We're leaving."
But when I returned to Grant's room, he was waiting.
His eyes moved immediately to Leo.
"Safe?"
"Yes."
I packed anyway.
Grant struggled to lift his hand.
"Mariana."
"I'm taking Leo somewhere safe."
"Go."
That wasn't what I expected.
"You need me."
"So... does he."
Those four words stopped me.
Grant Sterling had more money than some small countries.
But at that moment he wasn't asking me to sacrifice my child to save him.
He was telling me not to.
I sat beside him.
"I heard Julian talking about Isabel."
Grant closed his eyes.
"Tell me."
Slowly, painfully, he did.
Evelyn Sterling had been Grant's younger sister.
When their parents died, Grant had become her protector.
But as Sterling Meridian expanded, Grant spent more time working and less time noticing what was happening inside his own family.
Evelyn married a man Grant distrusted.
The marriage collapsed.
Then Evelyn discovered irregularities inside Sterling Meridian—shell companies, fraudulent shipping invoices, missing pension money.
She believed someone inside the family was stealing.
Before she could show Grant everything, she died in what police ruled a single-car accident.
Her daughter Isabel disappeared six months later.
"You think Evelyn was murdered?"
Grant stared at the ceiling.
"Now... yes."
"And Isabel knew?"
"Maybe."
"Why didn't you investigate?"
"Did."
He swallowed.
"Wrong people."
I thought about the woman with Julian.
"Who was here this morning?"
"Celeste."
"Who is she?"
Grant's eyes hardened.
"My aunt."
Celeste Sterling.
Grant's father's younger sister.
A board member.
Family.
That night I made the hardest phone call of my life.
My friend Sofia lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Glendale with her mother and two kids.
I told her I had an emergency job situation.
I didn't tell her about murder.
At dawn, Sofia drove through the service entrance.
I kissed Leo until he squirmed.
"Two days," I promised.
Sofia frowned.
"You look terrified."
"I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar."
"Please take care of him."
She hugged me.
"Always."
Watching her car disappear felt like someone had removed part of my body.
But Leo was safer away from the Sterling estate.
Or so I believed.
When I returned upstairs, Grant was attempting to sit up.
"Are you insane?"
"Possibly."
I helped him.
His muscles trembled violently.
Without the paralytic, his body was waking faster than either of us expected.
"We need a real doctor," I said.
"One person."
"Who?"
"Dr. Helen Park."
Grant gave me a number from memory.
Helen arrived ninety minutes later disguised as a physical therapist.
She examined Grant behind locked doors.
Her face went pale when she reviewed his medication.
"This isn't neurodegeneration."
"I know," I said.
She looked at me.
"No. You don't understand. His muscle tone is reduced because he's been chemically paralyzed repeatedly. If this stops, much of his function may return."
Grant stared at her.
"How much?"
"I don't know. But you're not dying."
Silence.
Grant's eyes filled.
He turned his face toward the window.
It was such a small reaction, but it broke something inside me.
For two months, this man had listened while his relatives discussed his funeral.
He had heard people divide his possessions.
He had been trapped inside his body while someone poisoned him.
And now a doctor was telling him he might live.
Helen collected blood samples.
"I'll run these privately."
"No electronic records," Grant said.
She nodded.
Before leaving, she gave us a plan.
No more injections.
Fluids.
Nutrition.
Gradual movement.
And evidence.
"We need one unopened ampoule," she said. "Without it, Barragan can claim contamination or medication error."
That afternoon, Barragan arrived.
This time, I distracted him.
"Doctor, Mr. Sterling's catheter bag looks cloudy."
Barragan sighed and followed me toward the bathroom.
While his back was turned, Grant moved.
Barely.
His fingers crawled across the blanket toward Barragan's open bag.
One centimeter.
Two.
His hand shook.
I kept talking.
"Is that dangerous?"
"No."
"Could it mean infection?"
"Unlikely."
Grant reached the bag.
His fingers closed around one ampoule.
He dragged it beneath the blanket.
Barragan turned.
Grant froze.
My heart nearly stopped.
Barragan walked back to the bedside.
He counted the ampoules.
Then frowned.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
He counted again.
His gaze moved to me.
Then Grant.
Then the floor.
"One is missing."
I shrugged.
"Maybe you used it yesterday."
"I don't make mistakes."
He stared directly into my eyes.
Then he smiled.
"Would you mind making me coffee?"
"I'd rather stay with my patient."
"I wasn't asking."
I went downstairs.
I was gone less than four minutes.
When I returned, Barragan was standing beside Grant.
The ampoule was back in his hand.
My stomach dropped.
He had found it.
But that wasn't the worst part.
Barragan leaned close to Grant's ear.
"I don't know how awake you are," he whispered.
May you like
Then he glanced at me.
"But tomorrow I'm doubling the dose."
