Chapter 4 - THE SECOND OPINION
Adrian said nothing.
That was his greatest weapon.
People mistook silence for ignorance.
He let Vanessa talk about Boston.
Let her complain about traffic.
Let her kiss his forehead as if she were still the devoted fiancée who had slept beside his hospital bed.
All the while, three words burned through his mind.
DID HE NOTICE?
That night, Adrian called someone he had not spoken to in years.
Dr. Evelyn Park.
One of the best spinal neurologists in the country.
She had treated athletes, soldiers, and crash victims.
More importantly, she owed Adrian nothing.
“I need you to examine me privately,” he said.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
There was a pause.
“Adrian, it’s almost midnight.”
“I know.”
“You sound scared.”
“I don’t get scared.”
“Then you sound like you finally learned how.”
Two hours later, Evelyn entered through the service entrance.
Grace helped her avoid the security cameras Marcus had recently installed throughout the house.
Adrian hated needing help.
But he hated not knowing more.
Evelyn examined him for nearly forty minutes.
She tested reflexes.
Sensation.
Muscle response.
Finally, she sat back.
“Who told you your condition was permanent?”
“Dr. Hayes.”
“When was your last complete neurological study?”
“Six months ago.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed.
“Six months?”
“He said repeating it was pointless.”
She stared at him.
“What medications are you taking?”
Adrian handed her the bottles.
She read each label.
Her face changed.
“What?”
“This combination would make rehabilitation extremely difficult.”
“How?”
“Sedation. Muscle weakness. Dizziness. Reduced coordination.”
Adrian felt cold.
“Could it prevent me from noticing improvement?”
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
Grace stood by the door.
Adrian asked the question slowly.
“Can I walk again?”
Evelyn looked directly at him.
“I can’t promise that.”
“I’m not asking for a promise.”
She nodded.
“Then yes. I believe there is enough nerve activity to justify aggressive rehabilitation.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
For eleven months, he had mourned a future that might not have been dead.
When he opened them again, there was no grief left.
Only anger.
“Someone knew.”
Evelyn hesitated.
“I can’t say that.”
“But someone prescribed these drugs.”
“Yes.”
“And somebody told me therapy was useless.”
“Yes.”
Adrian wheeled himself toward the window.
“I want bloodwork.”
“We can do that tomorrow.”
“No. Tonight.”
Grace looked at him.
“What are you expecting to find?”
Adrian turned.
“I don’t know.”
At 3:17 a.m., Evelyn drew the samples.
Before leaving, she took Adrian’s medication with her for analysis.
The next afternoon she called.
Her voice was different.
“Adrian.”
“What?”
“You need to listen carefully.”
His grip tightened around the phone.
“There is something in your blood that is not listed on any of your prescriptions.”
Adrian’s face went pale.
“What?”
“A powerful muscle relaxant.”
He stared across his study.
“How long could I have been taking it?”
“If it was hidden in something you use daily?”
She paused.
“Months.”
May you like
Adrian slowly looked toward the glass of water sitting beside his chair.
Then Grace screamed from upstairs.
