Chapter 5 - THE DOCTOR WHO KEPT ME IN A WHEELCHAIR
I spent the next hour reading every medical record Marcus could retrieve.
The first reports from my accident were clear.
My spinal cord had suffered significant trauma, but the initial scans did not show the complete destruction of the nerve pathways.
Recovery had been uncertain.
Not impossible.
Yet the rehabilitation records told a different story.
The same phrase appeared repeatedly.
No further intervention recommended.
Patient unlikely to regain independent mobility.
Experimental treatment contraindicated.
The documents were signed by Dr. Adrian Keller.
I had trusted that man with my life.
Now I was beginning to understand why my recovery had stopped.
“Get him here,” I told Marcus.
“Alive?”
I looked up.
“I'm not interested in revenge before I know the truth.”
Marcus nodded.
That evening, Keller arrived at the estate under heavy security.
He was in his early sixties, with expensive glasses and the nervous smile of a man who had spent years convincing wealthy patients that everything was under control.
When he saw me standing beside the fireplace, he stopped.
“Charles.”
“Doctor.”
His eyes moved to my legs.
“How is that possible?”
“You tell me.”
He glanced at Lyla.
“Who's the child?”
“My daughter.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
I placed the medical reports on the table.
“Explain why you told me I would never walk again.”
Keller swallowed.
“Your injury was severe. Your prognosis was extremely poor.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
He examined the documents.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Someone altered your treatment plan.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
I pushed a photograph across the table.
It showed Keller with Victoria.
He stared at it for several seconds.
Then his shoulders dropped.
“She came to me after your accident.”
“What did she want?”
“She wanted your rehabilitation transferred to her private facility.”
“Why?”
“Because she said you were becoming unstable. She claimed you were asking questions about your sister.”
I leaned forward.
“And what did you do?”
“I followed instructions.”
“You deliberately stopped my treatment?”
“I didn't stop it. I changed the course.”
“Which means you stopped it.”
He looked down.
“There were medications involved. They were supposed to manage your pain and prevent complications. But the dosage was higher than necessary.”
My hands tightened.
“Did you know?”
“I suspected.”
Lyla was standing beside the doorway, listening.
I gestured toward Marcus.
“Take her upstairs.”
She shook her head.
“I want to know.”
I softened my voice.
“Some of this is not for children.”
She looked at me.
“Mom always said grown-ups hide things because they don't want children to be scared.”
I had no answer.
After Marcus escorted her upstairs, I turned back to Keller.
“Where is my sister?”
“I don't know.”
“Victor does.”
Keller's expression changed.
“You've seen Victor?”
“Yes.”
The doctor stood abruptly.
“You need to leave New York.”
I remained still.
“Why?”
“Because Victor doesn't work for Victoria anymore.”
“Who does he work for?”
Keller looked toward the windows.
“Your father established a private trust before he died. It controlled several properties and offshore accounts. The beneficiaries were supposed to be you and Evelyn.”
I frowned.
“I inherited everything.”
“Not everything.”
He removed a small envelope from his coat.
Inside was a photocopy of a legal agreement.
The trust required both siblings to be alive and present to transfer full control.
But there was a third clause.
If either sibling disappeared, a temporary trustee would assume control.
The temporary trustee's name was Victoria Whitmore.
I felt my blood turn cold.
“She stole the company?”
“Not directly. She controlled the voting shares. Your father suspected she might try to take everything permanently.”
“Then why didn't he remove her?”
“He was afraid of what she knew.”
“What did she know?”
Keller hesitated.
Then he spoke.
“Your father didn't die naturally.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
“His medication was changed during his final weeks. I was ordered to sign the medical records.”
“Who ordered you?”
Keller's eyes filled with fear.
“Victoria.”
Before I could respond, the lights went out.
A crash came from upstairs.
Then a scream.
Lyla.
I ran toward the staircase.
My legs buckled on the first step, but I grabbed the railing and pulled myself forward.
Marcus shouted behind me.
“Charles, wait!”
I reached Lyla's bedroom.
The window was open.
The curtains moved in the cold night air.
Her bed was empty.
On the floor lay the little girl's drawing.
Someone had written across it in black marker:
One child for one sister.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A familiar voice spoke.
“Hello, brother.”
I stopped breathing.
Evelyn.
Then she said:
May you like
“Tell Victoria I have the original recording. If she wants it, she can come get it herself.”
The line went dead.
