Chapter 13 - THE NAME ON THE ORDER
Vasseur had carried a hard drive in his coat.
He intended to trade it if the envelope failed.
It held patient records from Maison des Pins.
Claire wasn’t the only person whose family had been told to stop asking questions.
Some residents had entered willingly.
Others had signed nothing.
The police found payments from relatives, business partners, and trustees who benefited when a difficult person disappeared behind a medical diagnosis.
Alexandre listened while Moreau explained.
Then Claire asked, “How many?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Find out.”
“We are.”
“No. Don’t say that to make me calm.”
Moreau met her eyes.
“I won’t.”
Mathéo arrived wrapped in an oversized police jacket.
He walked past everyone and went straight to Lucie.
She knelt.
He hit her chest with enough force to hurt.
“I didn’t cry.”
“You can now.”
That was all it took.
Alexandre sat on the floor beside them.
For a while, nobody tried to stand.
Later, a child psychologist helped explain that Mathéo would stay with his uncle while the authorities decided the next steps.
“Is Mom coming?”
Alexandre swallowed.
“Not tonight.”
“Does she know I’m okay?”
“Yes.”
Mathéo looked relieved.
Lucie understood then how unfair love could be.
A child could know someone had done terrible things and still want that person to sleep without worrying.
Valérie was formally arrested the next morning.
Fraud. Abduction. False statements. Conspiracy.
More charges would follow.
But one detail remained unresolved.
The original order authorizing Claire’s placement bore a signature.
Alexandre’s.
Not the clumsy copy from the accounting video.
A convincing match.
He stared at it.
“I didn’t sign that.”
Claire watched him from her bed.
Moreau placed another page beside it.
An authorization Alexandre remembered signing after the accident: permission to transfer private medical records.
The bottom half had been replaced.
“They used a real signature,” Moreau said.
Alexandre sat down.
“I signed whatever she put in front of me.”
“You were grieving,” Lucie said.
Claire’s expression tightened.
“So was I.”
The room went quiet.
Then Claire looked at her husband.
“I need you to understand something.”
He nodded.
“Not knowing wasn’t your crime.”
May you like
Her voice broke.
“But fifteen years of not asking became my life.”
