Chapter 4 - THE MEDICINE CABINET|
Dr. Helena Price arrived at the Moretti mansion shortly after midnight.
She was a silver-haired physician who had treated Rosa for nearly fourteen years.
Unlike the two men from Havenbrook, she didn't arrive with a wheelchair or an order demanding that someone surrender control of their life.
She brought a medical bag and asked Rosa a simple question.
“Would you like me to examine you tonight?”
Rosa looked at Luca.
Then she looked at me.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I think I would.”
I stayed beside her while Dr. Price examined the bruises on her arms.
The doctor moved carefully, explaining everything before touching her.
She asked Rosa about her medication, sleeping habits, recent falls, and episodes of confusion.
Rosa answered most of the questions herself.
When she forgot a date, Dr. Price waited patiently instead of interrupting.
It struck me how different Rosa seemed when nobody was rushing to speak for her.
After the examination, Dr. Price looked troubled.
“These bruises are concerning,” she said.
“Some appear consistent with someone gripping her arms forcefully.”
Luca stood near the fireplace.
“Can you tell when they happened?”
“Not reliably from their appearance alone.”
“But they need to be documented, and Rosa deserves a proper evaluation.”
She turned toward Rosa.
“Would you agree to having the injuries photographed for your medical record?”
Rosa nodded.
I held her hand while the doctor worked.
For weeks, I'd watched Rosa apologize every time somebody raised their voice.
Tonight, someone was finally asking permission.
Afterward, Dr. Price requested her current medications.
I hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where Rosa's medicine organizer was kept in a locked cabinet.
Vanessa had insisted on controlling it after the wedding.
She'd said elderly people couldn't be trusted to remember their pills.
But I remembered how Rosa had managed her medications perfectly well for years.
When I opened the cabinet, something looked wrong.
Three prescription bottles stood in a neat row.
One had a newer label than the others.
The dosage instructions were different from those in Rosa's old medication list.
I didn't understand what that meant medically.
I only knew the change hadn't been explained to Rosa.
I carried everything upstairs.
Dr. Price examined the labels.
“Who prescribed this?”
Luca stepped closer.
“Is something wrong?”
“I didn't prescribe this medication,” she said.
“And I wasn't informed that Rosa had started taking it.”
Rosa frowned.
“Vanessa told me you approved everything.”
Dr. Price shook her head.
“I did not.”
A terrible silence settled over the room.
The doctor explained that the medication could cause excessive drowsiness and confusion in some patients, especially when combined with other prescriptions.
She wasn't willing to guess what Rosa had taken or when.
She recommended urgent hospital testing and a thorough medication review.
Luca immediately offered to arrange a private medical team.
But Rosa surprised us.
“No.”
We all turned toward her.
She straightened in her chair.
“I want to go to the hospital.”
“A regular hospital.”
“And I want Claire to come with me.”
Luca nodded.
“Whatever you want, Ma.”
Rosa reached for his hand.
“You keep saying that now, sweetheart.”
“I need you to mean it tomorrow too.”
He looked as though she'd struck him.
“I will.”
While Daniel arranged transportation, Luca's family attorney, Nora Whitcomb, arrived to review the documents from the banquet.
She was a sharp-eyed woman in her fifties who spoke with the precision of someone accustomed to being ignored until she produced evidence.
After examining the alleged psychiatric transfer orders, she looked at Luca.
“Your signature appears on both authorizations.”
“I didn't sign either one.”
“Then we need the originals preserved and examined.”
“We also need the medical provider to explain the basis for these admissions.”
She glanced toward me.
“Claire, have you ever been treated at Havenbrook?”
“No.”
“Have you ever spoken to a doctor named Adrian Vale?”
I shook my head.
“I've never heard that name.”
Nora studied the papers again.
“Dr. Vale is listed as the attending physician for both proposed admissions.”
Luca folded his arms.
“Then find out who he is.”
Nora's expression remained serious.
“The police should handle that investigation.”
“And Claire needs her own attorney, independent of this family.”
I looked at her in surprise.
“Why?”
“Because the documents accuse you of serious conduct, and everyone deserves someone whose only responsibility is protecting their interests.”
For the first time that evening, I understood how easily Vanessa could have destroyed my life.
She'd known my address.
My date of birth.
My employment history.
Everything she'd needed to make a stranger believe I was dangerous.
And if Luca hadn't come into the ballroom when he did, I might already have been inside that wheelchair.
An hour later, while Rosa prepared to leave for the hospital, Daniel entered the room.
“Mr. Moretti, there's something else.”
Luca looked up.
“What?”
“The security cameras outside the pantry were disabled this afternoon.”
My heart sank.
That was where Vanessa had trapped Rosa.
“Who disabled them?” Luca asked.
Daniel's face tightened.
“I received instructions to shut down that section for maintenance.”
“From whom?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then he looked at me before answering.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
Luca's jaw clenched.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she said you had approved it.”
Luca looked toward his mother.
She was sitting beside the window, exhausted, her injured hands folded in her lap.
Then he turned back to Daniel.
“From now on, nobody speaks for me without my knowledge.”
But I knew something Luca didn't.
Vanessa had used exactly the same words to stop Rosa from questioning the medical orders.
Your son already approved it.
She'd learned how to make everyone obey a man who wasn't even in the room.
And now, with the truth beginning to unravel, I was afraid of what she might do next.
As I helped Rosa into her coat, my phone vibrated inside my apron pocket.
An unknown number had sent me a message.
You should have stayed on your knees, Claire.
Beneath the words was a photograph.
It showed me standing outside my apartment building in Rogers Park.
May you like
The photograph had been taken less than a week earlier.
And someone had drawn a red circle around my bedroom window.
