Chapter 6 - THE DOCTOR WHO TAUGHT HER TO DOUBT HERSELF
Dr. Harold Voss was seventy-four.
Retired.
Living in Connecticut.
Miriam found him in two hours.
Maya wanted to confront him.
Miriam said:
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because first we get records.”
They subpoenaed what they could.
Then Julian called.
“I found something.”
“What?”
“Voss received consulting payments from a Bellamy subsidiary while you were in foster care.”
Maya’s stomach turned.
“How much?”
“Eighty thousand dollars over five years.”
“For what?”
“Behavioral consulting.”
Miriam stared.
“A manufacturing company had a psychiatrist consulting?”
“Exactly.”
Maya sat down.
Someone had paid the man treating her.
Someone connected to Bellamy.
“Which subsidiary?”
Julian hesitated.
“Orchid Family Services.”
Maya laughed bitterly.
“Subtle.”
“Evelyn chaired it.”
Silence.
Maya closed her eyes.
Again Evelyn.
They drove to Connecticut with investigators.
Voss opened the door.
Saw Maya.
And dropped his coffee.
“No.”
Maya stared.
“You recognize me.”
He looked old suddenly.
“I’ve seen the news.”
“Before the news.”
He said nothing.
Miriam stepped forward.
“We’d like to ask about records from Ms. Bellamy’s adolescent treatment.”
“I don’t discuss patients.”
Maya said:
“I’m the patient.”
Voss looked at her.
Then at the ring.
His face drained.
“You kept it.”
Maya went cold.
“You saw it.”
He closed his eyes.
There.
Proof.
“When?”
“You were sixteen.”
“You told me it didn’t exist.”
“I told you many things.”
“Why?”
Voss sat down.
“Because I was paid.”
At least he didn’t waste time.
“By Evelyn?”
His expression changed.
“No.”
Maya froze.
“Then who?”
“Celeste.”
Everything stopped.
“My mother paid you?”
“Yes.”
Maya laughed in disbelief.
“She was dead.”
Voss looked at her.
“No.”
Silence.
Miriam leaned forward.
“What are you saying?”
“Celeste Bellamy was alive when Maya was sixteen.”
Maya couldn’t breathe.
“No.”
“She contacted me.”
“How?”
“Through an intermediary.”
“Name.”
“Evelyn.”
Maya’s anger exploded.
“So Evelyn knew my mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why did Mom pay you to tell me my memories were fake?”
Voss looked ashamed.
“Because Celeste believed someone was monitoring you.”
“That makes no sense.”
“She thought if you remembered too much, you would search.”
“And searching would expose me.”
“Yes.”
Maya stood.
“So she let me believe I was delusional.”
Voss said nothing.
“Did you know what that did to me?”
“Yes.”
“You watched a sixteen-year-old stop trusting her own mind.”
“Yes.”
Maya’s voice broke.
“And you took money.”
“Yes.”
She wanted to scream.
Instead:
“Where is Celeste?”
Voss looked up.
“I don’t know.”
“When did you last hear from her?”
“Thirteen years ago.”
“What did she say?”
Voss stood slowly.
He opened a locked cabinet.
Pulled out an envelope.
“I was told to give this to you if the orchid returned to the Bellamy estate.”
Maya stared.
“What does that mean?”
“I never understood.”
She opened the envelope.
Celeste’s handwriting.
Maya recognized it from the vault.
My Maya,
Her vision blurred immediately.
She kept reading.
If you are reading this, then you survived being hidden from people who believed your name was worth more than your life.
Maya covered her mouth.
I am sorry I allowed you to believe I was dead.
Her knees weakened.
Miriam steadied her chair.
Victor did not order the attack on the boat.
Maya froze.
He made terrible choices afterward, but he did not kill me.
Then:
Evelyn did not betray us either. She helped me disappear.
Maya stared.
Both people she suspected were partially cleared.
Then who?
She kept reading.
The danger came from inside the Sterling family.
Maya stopped.
Julian.
No.
She read faster.
Not Julian. His father. Charles Sterling.
The room went cold.
Julian’s father.
A legendary financier.
Dead eight years.
Celeste wrote that Charles Sterling had secretly financed Martin Vale’s embezzlement in exchange for control of Bellamy assets.
When Celeste discovered it, Charles arranged the boat attack.
Julian’s mother helped Celeste escape.
That explained her warning letter.
Celeste stayed hidden because Charles had access to politicians, police, foster agencies, doctors.
Even years after his death, his network remained.
Maya looked at Julian.
He had gone completely pale.
“My father.”
Maya said nothing.
Julian whispered:
“I didn’t know.”
Voss answered:
“Your mother did.”
Julian looked sick.
Maya continued reading.
One final paragraph:
If Julian Sterling is standing beside you when you read this, judge him for what he does after learning the truth, not for what his father did before he could stop it.
Julian closed his eyes.
Maya stared at the line.
Her mother had anticipated him.
Then Voss’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“Who?”
Maya asked.
“No caller ID.”
He answered.
A voice said:
“You should have burned the letter.”
Gunshot.
The window shattered.
Everyone dropped.
Investigators pulled Maya down.
Julian shielded Voss.
Another shot hit the wall.
Outside, tires screamed.
The attacker fled.
Nobody was hit.
But the message was clear.
Charles Sterling was dead.
His network wasn’t.
And someone was still protecting it.
That night, Julian received an encrypted email.
One photograph.
Richard meeting Vanessa in a parking garage.
Another man beside them.
Maya recognized him.
Thomas.
Julian’s assistant.
Julian stared at the screen.
His closest employee had been feeding information to Richard.
Then another message:
Sterling blood always chooses Sterling power.
Maya looked at Julian.
He looked devastated.
“I trusted him.”
Maya answered quietly:
May you like
“So did I.”
For once, neither needed to explain what betrayal felt like.
