She frowned, thinking, “Maybe three weeks ago, maybe four.” She didn’t come often. Linda said too many visits would draw attention. That sentence chilled me to the bone. Too many visits would draw attention.
They had thought of everything. They had planned every suspicion, every question, every way to exploit the pain. The evil had been organized in small, orderly steps. I looked at Ben. How can a doctor do that?
How can a doctor see a woman begging for help and turn his back on her? Ben answered quietly. Money, fear, pride. Sometimes people cross a line and then keep crossing it further because turning back would expose the first terrible thing they did.
Janet’s voice came out thin and bitter. Ryan said Dr. Rees signed the papers because he had gambling debts. Linda said desperate men are easy to buy.
I closed my eyes, so we had another clear answer. No madness, no mystery, no strange, hidden reason. Greed again. Greed had started it, then fear had fueled it, and then more greed had kept it alive.
Ben stepped aside and spoke into the radio, requesting that Rayan and Linda be taken to separate rooms at the police station and that an immediate order be issued to locate Dr. Reeves.
Nothing public yet, not a single leak. First, silence. She wanted records, financial transactions, court orders—everything. When she finished, she turned to me. “Evely, Janet needs to go to the hospital right now.” I nodded, even though every part of me wanted to stay by her side and not lose sight of her for another second.
The paramedics helped Janet to her feet. She almost collapsed. I caught her before she fell to the ground. Is was on her other side a second later. Between us and the paramedics, we managed to get her moving.
Each step seemed to require an enormous effort. At the bottom of the basement stairs, he stopped and looked up as if he were seeing the sky for the first time. It’s really over, he whispered.
I put both hands over her face and forced her to look at me. This part is over, I promise. She nodded slightly, but I could tell she still didn’t quite believe it.
Trauma doesn’t trust promises so quickly. We led her to the farmhouse kitchen. The light from the windows made her blink. She looked around slowly, almost confused by how normal everything seemed up there.
There was a fruit bowl on the table. A calendar hung on the wall. A pair of gardening gloves rested by the sink. I hated that kitchen. I hated every ordinary thing in it, because the ordinary had hidden the cruelty too well.
As we headed toward the door, Janet stopped again. There was a photograph on the wall next to the pantry. Ryan and Janet on their wedding day, she in white, he smiling, Linda beside him with her hands folded sweetly in front of him.
Janet stared at it for a long moment, then said in a voice so flat it frightened me, “Take it off.” Sam didn’t hesitate. He ripped the frame off the wall with such force that the nail shot out with it.
The glass shattered when he dropped it face down on the floor. No one tried to stop him. Outside, the evening air hit us cold and clean. Janet took a deep breath, and I saw tears sliding down her face.
“I’d forgotten what the outside smelled like,” she whispered. That almost broke me again. The ambulance doors were open, the lights weren’t on, but the interior glowed with that pale, clinical clarity.
Janet looked at her, then at me, and I knew she was afraid of being taken somewhere unsupervised again. “I’m coming with you,” I said immediately. Her shoulders relaxed a little.
Sam touched my arm. I’ll follow. Ben approached us. I’ll go there after questioning Ray and Linda. I looked at him. Ask them everything. His face hardened.
That’s what I intend to do. They carefully lifted Janet into the ambulance. I got in with her. One paramedic sat across from us while the other closed the back doors. As the vehicle drove away from the farm, I kept a hand around Janet’s wrist so she could feel me there every second.
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