Chapter 9 - The Doctor Behind the Smile
For six years, Samuel Price had walked into our home like a trusted friend.
Now I understood why my mother sometimes trembled before his appointments.
She hadn't been afraid of illness.
She'd been afraid of him.
I contacted Detective Elena Ramirez, the investigator assigned to the case.
She listened without interrupting while I explained the medical records, the red folder, and the threats.
When I finished, she leaned back.
"Emma, I need you to understand something."
"What?"
"Your father's death may be connected to a broader criminal investigation."
I nodded.
"I know."
"But we need evidence that can be verified independently."
"I have the folder."
"And it's important. But we also need original records, witnesses, and a reliable timeline."
I swallowed.
"Then what do you need from me?"
"Stay safe. Let us investigate."
I almost laughed.
That seemed impossible.
My father had been gone for fifteen years.
My mother was in intensive care.
And the people responsible might still be watching us.
"Detective, Dr. Price knows where I live."
Ramirez nodded.
"We're arranging protective measures. Your mother won't be left alone."
I exhaled slowly.
Then she asked something unexpected.
"Has Vincent Morgan contacted you?"
"Yes."
"Did he threaten you?"
I hesitated.
"He threw a coffee cup at me."
Ramirez raised an eyebrow.
"That's assault."
"I know."
"Did you report it?"
"No."
She studied me.
"Why not?"
I looked down.
"Because I was afraid of what would happen."
Ramirez nodded.
"Then let's document it now."
For the first time, someone was treating Vincent's behavior as something that mattered.
Not dismissing it because he was rich.
Not excusing it because he was powerful.
Just recognizing it was wrong.
That afternoon, Vincent came to the hospital again.
This time, I met him outside.
"I spoke to the police," I said.
He nodded.
"Good."
"I told them about the cup."
He looked directly at me.
"You should have."
I stared.
"You're not angry?"
"At myself."
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
Then Vincent reached into his coat.
I stiffened instinctively.
He stopped.
Slowly, he removed an envelope.
"Your father left this in my office fifteen years ago."
My heart hammered.
"Why do you still have it?"
"Because I couldn't bring myself to open it."
I stared.
"Then why give it to me now?"
"Because I should have given it to you years ago."
I took the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of my father holding me as a child.
Behind it was a letter.
Vincent, if something happens to me, promise you'll look after Helen and Emma.
My eyes filled.
The letter continued.
Richard knows I've found the financial records. If I disappear, don't let him convince you it was an accident.
I looked up.
"You knew."
Vincent closed his eyes.
"I knew Thomas was afraid."
"And you did nothing."
He nodded.
The silence between us felt enormous.
Then he whispered, "I can never undo that."
I wiped away my tears.
"No."
I looked directly at him.
"But you can stop hiding."
Vincent nodded.
"I already have."
I frowned.
"What?"
He took a breath.
"I gave investigators access to my private company archives."
My heart pounded.
"And?"
"Richard was moving money through medical facilities. But those transfers weren't the only thing he concealed."
I stared.
"What else?"
Vincent looked toward the hospital.
Then whispered, "Samuel Price wasn't working for Richard."
I felt cold.
"What?"
Vincent continued.
"Richard was working for Samuel."
May you like
And then he revealed the secret that turned everything upside down.
"Samuel Price is the man who actually controls Northbridge Medical."
