Chapter 10 - The TrialI read the message again.
Proof.
Of what?
My lawyer arrived at my house before sunrise.
She looked exhausted.
“We need to talk.”
I showed her the email.
She read it.
“We need to find the trial records.”
“They're sealed.”
“Then we unseal them.”
She shook her head.
“That's easier said than done.”
“People lied about my childhood. I think I deserve the truth.”
We spent the morning digging.
Carter BioSystems had developed an experimental treatment platform around the time of my diagnosis.
The technology involved targeted delivery.
It was designed to improve chemotherapy effectiveness while reducing damage to healthy tissue.
If it worked, it could change leukemia treatment.
But the company had never publicly released it.
Why?
Because something had gone wrong.
A clinical trial involving twelve patients had been terminated.
Except the records showed eleven.
I stared at the file.
“Twelve patients.”
“Yes.”
“Why does it say eleven?”
“Because one patient was removed from the database.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
We didn't know.
Then the lawyer found a handwritten note in an archived filing.
Patient 12 = E.C.
My initials.
I felt sick.
I was patient twelve.
I had survived.
That meant I was living evidence that the treatment worked.
And my father knew it.
Suddenly everything looked different.
My father's questions.
The medication changes.
The trust.
The threats.
The missing doctor.
The hidden company.
It wasn't merely about inheritance.
My survival could have been worth billions.
A phone call came.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said:
“You're getting close.”
“Who are you?”
“You don't need to know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
He sounded almost amused.
“You need to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Your grandfather wasn't protecting you from your father.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who was he protecting me from?”
The voice went quiet.
Then:
“Everyone.”
The call ended.
My lawyer stared at me.
“What did he say?”
I told her.
She immediately locked the office door.
“What?”
“There is something we haven't considered.”
“What?”
“Your grandfather may not have created the trust because he feared Thomas.”
I frowned.
“He may have created it because he feared the company.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because the trial was illegal.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
“Not the medical treatment.”
“The data.”
She opened another file.
“Someone altered the trial records.”
“For what?”
“To hide the fact that the treatment was successful.”
My heart raced.
“Why would anyone hide a successful treatment?”
“Because the patent was being sold.”
“To whom?”
She showed me the name.
A competing pharmaceutical company.
One of the largest in the world.
“But why?”
“They were preparing to buy Carter BioSystems.”
“And my grandfather stopped them.”
“Yes.”
“Then what happened?”
“He died.”
I looked at her.
“And my father?”
“Became acting chairman.”
Suddenly, I understood.
My father didn't need the inheritance.
He needed control of the company.
And if I inherited the controlling shares, his plans were over.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Megan.
We need to talk privately.
I replied:
Where?
Her response came immediately.
The old house. 8 p.m.
I hadn't seen the Carter family house in fifteen years.
I went.
The house looked smaller than I remembered.
Megan opened the door.
Her eyes were red.
“Emily.”
“What happened?”
She locked the door behind me.
“They know I contacted you.”
“Who?”
“Mom and Dad.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing.”
I stared at her.
“Then why are you scared?”
She whispered:
“Because I found something.”
“What?”
She pulled a USB drive from her pocket.
“I found Dad's old laptop.”
“And?”
“I found a video.”
“What kind of video?”
May you like
She looked at me.
“It was recorded the night Grandfather died.”
