“Clara, don’t listen to him.”
But the boy finally spoke.
“She gave me the letter three days ago.”
Clara’s face went blank.
“What did you say?”
The boy reached inside his jacket and pulled out an old photograph.
Clara almost collapsed when she saw it.
Her supposedly dead sister was standing beside the boy.
Alive.
And behind them was a building Clara recognized instantly.
It was one of Victor’s private medical facilities.
“You told me she died in a car accident,” Clara whispered.
Victor said nothing.
The boy looked at Clara.
“She said your husband kept her hidden because she discovered what he was putting in your medicine.”
Clara slowly turned toward Victor.
“My… medicine?”
The boy nodded.
“She said you were never supposed to be paralyzed forever.”
A horrified murmur swept through the ballroom.
Clara remembered the strange pills Victor personally brought her every morning.
She remembered the doctors he chose.
The specialists he refused to let her replace.
And suddenly Victor’s terrified reaction to her standing made perfect sense.
Clara’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“You knew I could walk.”
Victor backed toward the exit.
“Clara, I can explain.”
Then the boy delivered the sentence that made everyone in the ballroom turn toward him.
“Your sister told me why he did it.”
Victor stopped.
Clara stared at him.
“Why?”
The boy looked directly into Victor’s eyes.
“Because if you ever walked again… you would discover what he buried underneath your old house.”
Victor lunged toward the boy.
But security grabbed him first.
Clara unfolded her sister’s letter with trembling hands.
Inside was an address…
a key…
and four words written across the bottom:
“DON’T TRUST YOUR HUSBAND.”
