Chapter 6 - THE PRISON BUILT FROM LIES
The man who controlled my marriage had also controlled my father's memories.
I stared at Derek's signature.
Psychiatrist.
Dr. Derek Hayes.
For three years, he'd told me he worked in corporate healthcare administration.
He'd never mentioned a medical degree.
Now I understood why he was so skilled at twisting reality.
He had practiced it professionally.
I looked at Alexander.
"How could someone do this?"
His expression was grim.
"By gaining access to a vulnerable patient and falsifying information."
I shook my head.
"My father thought I was dead."
Alexander reached toward me, then stopped.
"Emily, may I sit beside you?"
I nodded.
He sat.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then I whispered, "Derek used to tell me I remembered things incorrectly."
Alexander listened.
"He'd move objects and accuse me of losing them. He'd tell me conversations happened differently than I remembered."
My voice broke.
"Sometimes I thought I was losing my mind."
Alexander's face tightened.
"That was abuse, Emily."
I stared at him.
Hearing someone name it felt strange.
I'd spent years making excuses.
Derek was stressed.
Derek loved me.
Derek had a difficult childhood.
But none of those things changed what he'd done.
"I know," I whispered.
Alexander nodded.
"You don't have to defend him."
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
The next morning, my attorney, Rachel Bennett, arranged a meeting with investigators from the Chicago Police Department and federal authorities examining the medical fraud.
We provided the documents.
The photographs.
The hospital records.
And the evidence connecting Derek to my father's confinement.
Investigators confirmed Derek held medical credentials under his full legal name.
They also discovered disciplinary complaints against him at two private facilities.
One patient had accused him of administering unnecessary medication.
Another claimed he used psychological evaluations to prevent contact with family members.
Both complaints had been dismissed after financial settlements.
My stomach turned.
How many other people had he hurt?
Rachel encouraged me to document my own experiences and helped me seek a protective order.
I agreed.
For once, I wasn't going to minimize what happened to me.
That afternoon, Marcus received a tip from a former nurse.
She claimed Jonathan Carter had been transferred to a private rehabilitation facility outside Chicago.
The institution was registered under a holding company connected to Hayes Medical Group.
Investigators began reviewing the information.
Then the nurse sent a photograph.
A man sat in a wheelchair beside a window.
Gray hair.
A scar running along his jaw.
My father's eyes.
I covered my mouth.
"Dad."
He was alive.
I began crying.
Alexander looked at the photograph.
Then at me.
"We'll help the authorities bring him home."
But before I could answer, Rachel called.
Her voice sounded urgent.
"Emily, there's something you need to know."
"What?"
"Derek's attorney just submitted a document claiming your marriage gives Derek authority over certain assets inherited from Jonathan Carter."
My heart stopped.
"What assets?"
Rachel hesitated.
"An ownership interest in a shipping company."
I stared at Alexander.
"Which company?"
Rachel took a breath.
"Moretti Maritime."
Alexander went completely still.
May you like
Then Rachel added:
"Emily, according to these documents, your father left you forty percent of the company's controlling shares."
