Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO NEVER CAME HOME
Faith Willis had never told anyone at the Carter estate about her brother.
Not Mrs. Gable.
Not Carmine.
Not the employment agency that referred her.
She certainly hadn't planned to tell me.
But now she sat across from my desk, holding a photograph of a smiling young man in a wheelchair.
His name was Daniel Willis.
He was twenty-six when he died.
Faith was only twenty-one at the time.
"He was an engineer," she said quietly.
I looked at the photograph.
"Mechanical?"
"Biomedical."
I frowned.
"He designed medical equipment?"
She nodded.
"Assistive devices. Mobility systems. He wanted to make rehabilitation technology affordable."
Something about that bothered me.
"Did he work for Blackwood?"
Faith looked up sharply.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"What did he do?"
"He helped develop a prototype."
"What kind?"
"A device that could help some patients regain voluntary movement."
I stared at her.
"Spinal stimulation?"
She nodded.
"That's what they called it."
I looked toward the documents Richard had left behind.
The procedure.
The hidden authorization.
The pain in my leg.
It was beginning to feel less like coincidence.
"Faith, did your brother ever mention Victor Blackwood?"
She froze.
"How do you know that name?"
"He's my business partner."
Her face drained.
For a moment, she looked as though she'd been slapped.
"No."
I leaned forward.
"Faith?"
She stood abruptly.
"I need to leave."
"What?"
"I can't work here."
I stared.
"You just told me yesterday you couldn't afford to lose the job."
"I know."
"Then what's changed?"
She looked at me.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Victor Blackwood is the reason my brother died."
The room went silent.
I felt anger rise.
"Explain."
Faith took a shaky breath.
"Daniel discovered the foundation was manipulating trial results."
My stomach tightened.
"He said patients were being pressured into procedures without fully understanding the risks."
I stared at her.
"What happened?"
"Daniel collected evidence. He planned to report everything."
"And?"
"Three days later, he died."
Faith looked away.
"The foundation said it was a medical complication."
I waited.
She continued.
"But Daniel left me something."
"What?"
"A notebook."
My pulse quickened.
"Where is it?"
She hesitated.
"Hidden."
"Why?"
"Because someone came to our apartment after the funeral."
I looked at her.
"Who?"
"A man in a dark suit. He said Daniel had stolen confidential property."
My jaw tightened.
"Did he threaten you?"
Faith nodded.
"He told me to forget everything."
I leaned back.
For years, I'd been surrounded by people who feared me.
Now I was listening to a young woman who had lived with fear for five years.
And somehow, she'd remained braver than most of the men in my organization.
"Faith," I said quietly, "you don't have to give me the notebook."
She studied me.
"But I can help you report what you know."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Why should I trust you?"
I looked down at my wheelchair.
"Because someone may have done the same thing to me."
She stared.
Then reached into her coat pocket.
A small USB drive appeared.
I frowned.
"What is that?"
Faith swallowed.
"My brother's final recording."
May you like
I felt my heart hammer.
Then she whispered, "He named the man who ordered the experiment."
