Chapter 4: The Plan to Make My Sister Disappear
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
My father stood in the middle of the living room, holding a document that appeared to have been signed by him.
Except he hadn't signed it.
Monica stood beside the fireplace, her fingers trembling against the edge of the mantel.
Dr. Cole slowly closed his medical bag.
"Richard, I strongly recommend we discuss this privately.""
My father laughed.
It wasn't a happy sound.
"Privately? You've been entering my house behind my back, giving my eleven-year-old daughter medication, and falsifying medical documents. What exactly do you think we have left to discuss privately?""
Dr. Cole glanced toward Monica.
She shook her head.
"Adrian, don't say anything.""
That was enough for me.
I pulled out my phone and began recording.
"Go ahead," I said.
"Explain everything.""
Monica noticed the phone.
"Put that away!""
"No.""
"You have no idea what you're doing, Ethan.""
"Then explain why my little sister thinks you wanted her sick.""
Monica slapped her palm against the fireplace.
"Because she's a child! She misunderstands everything!""
Zora moved behind me.
My father opened the folder again.
He examined the authorization document, then the medical reports.
"Adrian, what is this diagnosis?""
The doctor hesitated.
"Zora has been evaluated for several conditions.""
"Which conditions?""
"I can't discuss confidential medical information without—"
"Without what? My permission? The permission you forged?""
Dr. Cole's expression hardened.
"Your wife presented herself as the child's legal guardian.""
My father lifted the document.
"She is my wife. She is not Zora's biological mother, and she has no authority to sign my name.""
Monica stepped forward.
"Richard, I can explain.""
"Then explain the money.""
She looked at the envelope on the floor.
"Those payments were for consultations.""
"Two thousand five hundred dollars at a time?""
"Medical care is expensive.""
"For what medical care? You threw away her dinner and locked the refrigerator!""
Monica's eyes flashed.
"Because she refuses to cooperate! Do you know how difficult it is to manage a child who constantly makes things up?""
Zora began crying.
My father immediately turned toward her.
"Sweetheart, look at me. You haven't done anything wrong.""
Monica rolled her eyes.
"You're rewarding this behavior.""
That was when my father lost his temper.
"ONE MORE WORD!""
His voice shook the room.
Monica stepped backward.
I had never seen her look so small.
My father turned to Dr. Cole.
"Tell me what you gave my daughter.""
The doctor removed his glasses.
"I prescribed medication to manage her symptoms.""
"What symptoms?""
"Fatigue, dizziness, occasional confusion.""
"Did you run blood tests?""
"Yes.""
"Did you give me the results?""
"No.""
"Why?""
Dr. Cole glanced at Monica again.
My father followed his eyes.
"Because she paid you?""
The doctor didn't answer.
I moved closer.
"You're a physician. You knew she was eleven years old.""
"Listen, young man—"
"No. You listen. She fainted at school.
She couldn't stay awake during dinner. She told us she was being given pills. What exactly did you do to her?""
Dr. Cole rubbed his forehead.
"I was following instructions.""
"Whose instructions?""
Monica suddenly grabbed the folder.
My father caught her wrist.
"Don't.""
She struggled.
"Let go of me!""
He released her, and the papers scattered across the rug.
One document landed near my shoe.
I picked it up.
It was a bank transfer record.
The payments came from a company called Northbridge Family Holdings.
The recipient account belonged to Monica.
But the most disturbing detail was the reference attached to each transaction.
*PROJECT Z — MEDICAL COMPLIANCE.*
I read it aloud.
Monica's face drained of color.
"What is Project Z?"" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Dr. Cole looked at the document.
Then he looked at Monica.
"You told me those records had been destroyed.""
My father slowly turned toward him.
"Destroyed?""
The doctor realized his mistake.
He stepped toward the front door.
My father blocked him.
"You're not leaving until you explain.""
Dr. Cole raised both hands.
"I want legal representation.""
"Good. Because the police are already on their way.""
The doctor looked at Monica.
"You told me this family would never find out.""
Monica whispered, "Shut up.""
But the doctor continued.
"She said Richard was terminally ill and that the child would inherit everything if something happened to him. She wanted the medical records to establish that Zora was unstable and incapable of managing her inheritance.""
My father stared at him.
"What inheritance?""
The doctor looked confused.
"Your daughter owns the controlling interest in the Miller Family Trust.""
I felt my stomach twist.
My father turned toward Zora.
"Sweetheart, do you know what he's talking about?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
Dr. Cole continued.
"Her mother established the trust before she died. The funds become fully accessible when Zora turns eighteen. But under certain circumstances, a guardian can petition for emergency control.""
My father looked at Monica.
"How much?""
The doctor hesitated.
"Approximately twelve million dollars.""
Silence swallowed the room.
Twelve million dollars.
That was why Monica had married my father.
That was why she had been so interested in Zora's medical appointments.
That was why she wanted the girl to appear unstable.
My father took a step toward his wife.
"You used my daughter for money?""
Monica's expression changed.
The tears disappeared.
The trembling stopped.
"Don't pretend you married me because you loved me, Richard.""
He looked stunned.
"What?""
"You were lonely. You needed someone to run your house, someone to look after your children. I gave you that.""
"You starved an eleven-year-old.""
"I protected my future!""
Zora flinched.
Monica pointed at her.
"Do you think that little girl would ever have given me anything? Her mother left her everything, and I was expected to spend the rest of my life serving a child who wasn't even mine?""
My father stepped between them.
"Get away from her.""
Monica laughed.
"You think you've won? You haven't even seen the real documents.""
She reached into her purse and pulled out a small flash drive.
Then she looked directly at me.
"Ask your father why he never told you what happened to Zora's mother.""
My father went completely still.
Monica smiled.
"Ask him why the original medical records from the hospital disappeared.""
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And before anyone could stop her, she threw the flash drive onto the coffee table.
"Your mother didn't die the way Richard told you.""
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