Chapter 5 - May 17May 17.
The date wouldn't leave my mind.
I spent the entire night searching through old medical records.
Hospital admission dates.
Billing statements.
Treatment schedules.
Anything connected to that day.
At 3:14 a.m., I found it.
A visitor log.
Thomas Carter.
11:42 p.m.
Emergency Oncology Ward.
Visitor: Thomas Carter.
Purpose: Family consultation.
Family.
I almost laughed.
That word felt obscene.
I called Laura.
She was awake.
“I found the record.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there.”
“You saw him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he ask?”
She was silent.
Then she said:
“He asked how much time you had left.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth.”
“That treatment was working.”
Laura took a breath.
“You were responding better than expected.”
I closed my eyes.
“So he knew I might survive.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“He asked about the trust.”
I opened my eyes.
“What exactly did he say?”
Laura's voice trembled.
“He asked whether your survival would trigger the transfer of your grandfather's estate.”
My hands curled into fists.
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him the trust protected you.”
“And then?”
“He became angry.”
“How angry?”
“He said, ‘She shouldn't even know about it.’”
I froze.
“He admitted knowing about the trust?”
“Yes.”
“And the treatment?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was I left alone?”
Laura cried quietly.
“I don't know.”
I stood up.
“I do.”
She looked at me through the phone.
“He wanted me to die.”
Silence.
Neither of us said anything.
Finally, Laura spoke.
“Emily, don't say that unless you are ready for what it means.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means your father didn't simply abandon you.”
She hesitated.
“It means you need to find out what happened before your cancer treatment started.”
My blood ran cold.
“What are you saying?”
“I think someone interfered with your medical care.”
I couldn't breathe.
“That's impossible.”
“I hope it is.”
“Did something happen?”
“There was a discrepancy in your initial medication records.”
“What discrepancy?”
“Your first chemotherapy order was changed.”
“Changed by whom?”
“That is what I never discovered.”
I grabbed my laptop.
“Where are the records?”
“Hospital archives.”
“Can we access them?”
“Not without permission.”
“I’m a doctor now.”
“That doesn't give you access to your childhood records.”
I stared at the screen.
Then I remembered something.
The envelope.
My father's letter.
I opened it.
Inside was a single page.
No apology.
No congratulations.
No mention of the graduation.
It said:
Emily,
You have something that belongs to this family.
We are prepared to discuss a settlement.
You will meet us tomorrow at 10 a.m.
Come alone.
At the bottom was a second sentence:
Bring the trust documents.
I laughed.
They wanted the documents.
They wanted proof.
They wanted leverage.
I forwarded the letter to my lawyer.
Then I did something else.
I replied.
I'll meet you tomorrow.
Laura called immediately.
“Emily, no.”
“I have to.”
“Not alone.”
“I won't be.”
“What are you planning?”
I smiled.
“For once, I'm going to let them believe they have control.”
The next morning, I arrived at the restaurant five minutes early.
Karen was already seated.
Thomas sat beside her.
Megan was there too.
When I walked in, all three turned.
Karen stood.
“Emily.”
I stopped.
She smiled.
“My daughter.”
I almost laughed.
Thomas extended his hand.
I didn't take it.
He slowly lowered it.
Megan looked uncomfortable.
Then Karen said:
“We're glad you came.”
“I came because you asked.”
Thomas opened a folder.
“We want to make things right.”
I sat down.
“Then start with the truth.”
He looked at me.
“What truth?”
I placed a photograph on the table.
The hospital visitor log.
May 17.
His name.
His signature.
His arrival time.
Then I placed another document beside it.
My grandfather's trust agreement.
Thomas's face changed.
I leaned forward.
“You told me my treatment was too expensive.”
He swallowed.
“But you knew it was already paid for.”
Silence.
“Why did you lie?”
Thomas stared at me.
Karen suddenly began crying.
Megan looked horrified.
And then Thomas whispered something I never expected.
“Because your grandfather ordered me to choose.”
I frowned.
“Choose what?”
Thomas looked directly into my eyes.
“Which daughter would inherit everything.”
I felt cold.
“And?”
May you like
He smiled bitterly.
“I chose wrong.”
