Chapter 2 - The Photograph Shows His Own Brother
Alexander Vale did not look at Vanessa first.
He looked at the photograph in his hand.
The image had been taken through the window of a private medical club downtown.
Vanessa sat at a corner table beside Dr. Marcus Hale, the neurologist who had supervised Alexander’s recovery after the crash.
Across from them sat a third person.
Thomas Vale.
Alexander’s older brother.
For several seconds, the room was so quiet Emma could hear the antique clock ticking above the fireplace.
Vanessa stopped moving.
Alexander lifted his eyes.
“My brother?”
She swallowed.
“It isn’t what you think.”
“That sentence usually means it is exactly what I think.”
Thomas had visited Alexander every Sunday for seven months.
He brought newspapers.
Business reports.
Updates from Vale Holdings.
He sat beside the wheelchair and told Alexander not to worry about the company.
“I’ll keep everything stable until you’re back.”
Alexander remembered those words differently now.
He looked at the forged document.
According to it, his assets would be placed under temporary guardianship if two physicians certified that he had permanent cognitive and physical incapacity.
The proposed guardian was Vanessa.
The alternate guardian was Thomas.
Emma stood near the wheelchair, pale.
Alexander asked her, “Where did you find this?”
“Under the cushion.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emma looked at Vanessa.
“She was always here.”
Vanessa snapped, “She’s lying.”
Alexander turned.
Vanessa immediately softened.
“Alex, listen to me.”
“No.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
He laughed once.
“From what?”
“From yourself.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Alexander’s face hardened.
Vanessa rushed on.
“You were depressed after the accident. You were angry. You refused therapy.”
“I refused your therapist.”
“Because you were paranoid.”
Emma flinched.
Alexander noticed.
He looked at her.
“What else?”
She hesitated.
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Do not answer him.”
Alexander moved between them.
“I asked Emma.”
The young maid reached into her apron pocket.
She removed a folded medication chart.
“I started writing down when Dr. Hale changed your pills.”
Alexander took it.
The dates formed a pattern.
Every time Alexander reported increased strength, Dr. Hale increased the dosage of a muscle relaxant.
Every time he complained of dizziness, Hale added another sedative.
Alexander had stopped taking most of them three weeks ago.
That was why he could stand now.
Not because his recovery had suddenly accelerated.
Because he had secretly stopped being drugged.
Vanessa stared at him.
“You stopped your medication?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Long enough to learn what happens when I don’t swallow what you hand me.”
Her face changed.
Alexander saw fear.
Not surprise.
Fear.
He stepped closer.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew I could walk.”
“I suspected.”
“And you still hit my leg with that cane.”
“I was frustrated.”
“You were testing me.”
Vanessa said nothing.
Alexander looked toward the medication tray.
Then at Emma’s notes.
Then back to the photograph.
“Where is Thomas?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“I don’t know.”
Emma quietly said, “I do.”
Both turned.
She looked terrified.
“He called the house this morning.”
Alexander frowned.
“You answered?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Emma swallowed.
“He asked whether you were still taking the blue capsules.”
Vanessa’s face drained.
Alexander stared at her.
“What blue capsules?”
Emma pointed to the small bottle beside the wheelchair.
Alexander picked it up.
The label identified a standard anti-spasm medication.
But Emma shook her head.
“Sir, those aren’t the pills that came from the pharmacy.”
Alexander looked at her sharply.
“How do you know?”
“My sister is a pharmacy tech.”
Vanessa moved toward the door.
Alexander blocked her.
“Stay.”
“You can’t imprison me.”
“No.”
He lifted the bottle.
“But I can ask why someone has been switching my medication.”
Then the front door opened.
A man’s voice carried through the marble foyer.
“Alexander?”
Thomas.
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Alexander looked at Emma.
“Say nothing.”
He returned to the wheelchair.
He sat.
Pulled the gray blanket over his legs.
By the time Thomas entered the room, Alexander once again looked helpless.
Thomas smiled warmly.
“Good. You’re resting.”
Alexander looked up at his brother.
“Trying to.”
Thomas’s gaze moved to Vanessa.
Then to Emma.
Then to the open envelope on the table.
May you like
His smile disappeared.
And Alexander knew immediately that his brother recognized it.
