Chapter 2 - THE DOCTOR WHO LIED
Ryan immediately called Dr. Mercer.
The call went straight to voicemail.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Maya watched him from across the hospital corridor.
“Who was with her?”
“Oliver’s doctor.”
Maya’s expression changed from fear to recognition.
“You believe me now?”
Ryan moved closer.
“What do you know?”
“Three weeks ago, I asked Dr. Mercer why Oliver’s prescription had changed.”
“What prescription?”
“The dosage on his nighttime medicine.”
Ryan frowned.
“I didn’t know it changed.”
“That’s because it wasn’t supposed to.”
Maya stood slowly.
“I found a different label on the bottle.”
“When I called the clinic, they said Dr. Mercer had approved it after speaking to you.”
“I never spoke to him.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Maya gave a hollow laugh.
“I did.”
Ryan searched his memory.
Then he remembered.
Maya had mentioned a problem with Oliver’s prescription during breakfast.
Ryan had been answering emails.
He had told her to call the doctor again.
He had not looked up from his phone.
Shame burned through him.
A detective entered the corridor carrying the folder from the nursery.
His name was Daniel Reeves.
He was tall, gray-haired, and spoke with a calmness that made every question feel serious.
“Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore, I need to speak with you.”
Ryan pointed toward the treatment doors.
“Our son is still inside.”
“I understand.”
Detective Reeves placed the folder on a nearby table.
“These documents are not drafts.”
Maya stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“They were filed this morning.”
Ryan picked up the custody petition.
His mother’s signature appeared at the bottom.
The petition accused Maya of neglect.
It claimed she had failed to give Oliver medication.
It described unexplained bruises.
It included statements from household employees.
Ryan flipped through the pages.
Three names appeared repeatedly.
Nora Blake, the housekeeper.
Samuel Grant, the driver.
And Denise Porter, Oliver’s former nanny.
“These people work for us.”
“Not anymore,” Maya said.
Ryan looked at her.
“Nora quit last month.”
“Samuel was fired two weeks ago.”
“Denise disappeared after your mother accused her of stealing.”
Detective Reeves opened another section.
“Each of them signed statements claiming Mrs. Whitmore behaved violently around the child.”
“They’re lying.”
Maya’s voice cracked.
“I never hurt Oliver.”
Ryan looked at the signatures.
Something was wrong.
Samuel Grant had worked for his family for twelve years.
He had taught Ryan how to drive when Ryan was seventeen.
He had once carried Oliver through a snowstorm when their car broke down.
Why would he accuse Maya of abuse?
Detective Reeves slid a photograph across the table.
It showed a bruise on Oliver’s upper arm.
Ryan recognized the date printed in the corner.
“That was after his blood test.”
Maya nodded quickly.
“The nurse had trouble finding a vein.”
The detective tapped the medical form.
“According to this report, Dr. Mercer described the bruise as suspicious.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“Mercer knew exactly where it came from.”
The treatment doors opened.
A doctor walked toward them.
Maya rushed forward.
“How is he?”
“Oliver is stable.”
Her knees nearly gave out from relief.
“We gave him medication to open his airways.”
“He’s breathing better.”
Ryan exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.
“Was he poisoned?”
The doctor hesitated.
“We found a sedative in his system.”
Maya gripped the edge of the table.
“What kind?”
“A medication usually prescribed to adults with severe anxiety.”
Ryan looked at the bottle the paramedics had brought.
“Could it have slowed his breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Could it have killed him?”
The doctor’s silence answered the question.
Maya began to cry.
Ryan put his arms around her.
This time, she did not pull away.
Detective Reeves picked up the medicine bottle.
“We’ll send this to the lab.”
The doctor continued.
“There’s something else.”
Ryan’s stomach tightened.
“We found traces of the same medication in earlier bloodwork.”
“How much earlier?”
“Based on the records, at least six weeks.”
Maya stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
The doctor’s expression remained grim.
“Your son may have been receiving small doses over time.”
Ryan stepped back.
Six weeks.
His mother had visited almost every day during that period.
She brought soup.
She organized medicine.
She insisted Maya needed rest.
She constantly said Oliver looked weak whenever Maya cared for him.
Ryan finally understood the cruelty of the plan.
Evelyn had not merely tried to make Maya look unstable.
She had been making Oliver sick.
His phone buzzed.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
DO NOT TRUST THE CAMERA FOOTAGE.
IT HAS BEEN EDITED.
Ryan showed it to Detective Reeves.
“Can you trace this?”
The detective took a photograph of the message.
“Possibly.”
Another message arrived.
ASK WHY THE NURSERY CAMERA WAS INSTALLED TWO MONTHS BEFORE OLIVER GOT SICK.
Maya looked at Ryan.
“The camera was there before his fever started.”
Ryan stared at the words.
Then a third message appeared.
YOUR MOTHER IS NOT WORKING ALONE.
A photograph followed.
It showed Evelyn standing outside Dr. Mercer’s clinic.
Beside her was a man Ryan knew very well.
It was his family attorney.
May you like
Charles Whitmore.
Ryan’s uncle.
