Chapter 5 - THE DOCTOR WHO NEVER WATCHED ME SIGN
Dr. Prescott was not missing.
He was hiding.
Daniel found him forty-eight hours later at his brother’s cabin in Vermont.
He agreed to speak only after his own attorney was present.
The conversation lasted nineteen minutes.
It changed the entire case.
“I never saw Sarah sign anything,” Dr. Prescott said.
Victor had brought him the power of attorney weeks earlier.
Already signed.
Victor claimed I wanted Prescott to witness it because I trusted him.
“Why would you sign something you didn’t see me sign?”
Prescott looked ashamed.
“Victor said you were frightened about the transplant. He said you didn’t want more legal appointments.”
“So you broke the law because my husband said paperwork made me nervous?”
“No.”
His eyes dropped.
“I owed him money.”
Victor had invested in Prescott’s failing medical office.
Not generously.
Strategically.
He owned the debt.
Prescott signed the document because Victor threatened to bankrupt him.
That didn’t excuse it.
But it explained it.
Then Prescott told us something I had not expected.
“Victor asked me about your surgical risks.”
My stomach tightened.
“What exactly?”
“Mortality. Complications. How long you might be unable to make legal decisions.”
Daniel stopped writing.
“When?”
“About a month before the transplant.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Did he ask whether I could die?”
Prescott looked miserable.
“Yes.”
Nobody spoke.
I thought of Victor telling Rita:
She gave me a kidney. That woman was born to take care of me.
I had assumed arrogance.
Now I wondered how much calculation had been hidden beneath it.
Prescott continued.
“He also asked about life insurance medical exclusions.”
Daniel looked at me sharply.
I already knew what he was thinking.
I owned a $1.5 million life insurance policy from years earlier.
Victor had always been the beneficiary.
That was normal when we were married.
Or at least it had felt normal.
Priya contacted the insurer.
Two hours later, we received the beneficiary history.
Three weeks before surgery, someone had submitted a request changing the primary beneficiary.
Not to Victor.
To Rita Cole.
My forged signature appeared again.
The insurer had rejected the change because identity verification had not been completed.
Victor had tried anyway.
I sat in silence.
He wanted my house.
My savings.
My financial authority.
And if I died, he wanted the insurance money routed directly to his mistress.
Daniel closed the file.
“I’m taking this to law enforcement.”
This time, I didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
My phone buzzed.
Victor.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw his message.
SARAH, PLEASE COME HOME. I THINK SOMEONE IS TRYING TO FRAME ME.
I stared at the words.
A second message arrived.
RITA IS GONE.
May you like
A third followed.
AND SHE TOOK EVERYTHING.
