Chapter 12 - WHY THE DOCTOR’S NAME WAS IN THE FILE
Dr. Marcus Feld had not treated my tumor.
That was the first important fact.
He was an anesthesiologist and investor.
He had no role in my diagnosis, neurosurgery, or hospital care.
So why did Alejandro’s contingency plan list him?
Rebecca requested records connected to Novaris Health Partners, the company where Alejandro had invested $150,000.
Marcus’s attorney initially refused informal questions.
Then financial investigators found something.
Alejandro had not merely invested in Marcus’s company.
Marcus owed Alejandro money.
Nearly $220,000.
Suddenly, Marcus agreed to talk.
He arrived with his own lawyer.
“This needs to be very clear,” he said immediately. “I never touched Camila’s medical care.”
Nobody had accused him yet.
His urgency said enough.
“What did Alejandro want from you?” Rebecca asked.
Marcus rubbed his hands together.
“Medical information.”
My stomach turned.
“What kind?”
“General information at first. Prognosis. Potential cognitive effects. Recovery timelines.”
“Did you access my records?”
“No.”
He looked directly at me.
“I swear.”
Hospital audit logs later supported that claim.
Marcus had not entered my chart.
But Alejandro gave him details I had shared privately at home.
Marcus then explained possible outcomes of brain surgery.
Memory loss.
Executive dysfunction.
Speech difficulty.
Personality changes.
Alejandro had asked how long those problems might last.
Marcus thought he was a frightened husband preparing for his wife’s recovery.
Then the questions changed.
“How soon after surgery could someone be declared unable to manage finances?”
Rebecca’s expression hardened.
“And you answered?”
“I told him that isn’t something a spouse decides.”
“Why didn’t you question him?”
“I did.”
Eventually.
Marcus began to suspect Alejandro cared more about legal timing than medicine.
He stopped answering.
Alejandro reminded him about the money Marcus owed.
That created leverage.
“So he threatened you?”
“Not directly.”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“He said friends help each other.”
I almost laughed.
Alejandro had a gift for turning relationships into financial obligations.
Then Marcus revealed why his name appeared under every contingency.
Alejandro had asked him to recommend a physician who performed independent cognitive evaluations.
Someone outside my hospital.
Someone Alejandro could hire quickly.
Marcus refused.
“That was our last serious conversation.”
“When?”
“The day before Camila’s surgery.”
My heart started pounding.
“What did he say?”
Marcus looked at me reluctantly.
“He said if you woke up confused, he needed documentation immediately.”
Sofia cursed.
I remained silent.
Then Marcus added:
“He also said if you woke up completely normal, he had another problem.”
“What problem?”
Marcus swallowed.
“You might remember something he told you.”
The confession.
Of course.
Alejandro had wanted to tell me the truth because he thought surgery might erase it.
Maybe guilt had mixed with arrogance.
Maybe he wanted freedom without consequences.
But Marcus remembered another statement.
Alejandro had laughed and said:
“Either way, tomorrow resets my life.”
He had believed my operation was his reset button.
Then Rebecca’s phone rang.
She listened.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She ended the call.
“The forensic team found a scheduled transfer.”
“How much?”
“Two point eight million dollars.”
My heart stopped.
“From where?”
“A commercial property account connected to your trust.”
“That can’t happen.”
“It didn’t.”
My trustees blocked it.
“Where was it supposed to go?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“To an offshore account.”
“Whose?”
The registered beneficiary was not Alejandro.
May you like
It was Lucia Moreno.
His nine-year-old daughter.
