Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Henry
My footsteps echoed off the hardwood floor as I stepped back inside the house, but my mind was far away, still caught on the look on Ariana’s face when she realized her mother was here.
Pure, unguarded happiness.
I’d never seen her smile like that. I’d seen her laugh out of disbelief, smirk out of defiance, even cry out of frustration. But this? This was different. It was light. Real.
A glimpse of the woman she might have been if Victor Kane hadn’t destroyed her life.
And I’d been the one to give it to her. A moment of peace. Of joy.
Hopefully, it would help her see I wasn’t the cruel bastard she had every right to think I was.
At least not when it came to her.
“Henry,” a voice cut through as I made my way through the living room.
I stopped, my gaze landing on Clark as he stood from the couch, his expression polite, but uneasy.
“I was hoping to have a word.”
“Of course.” I gestured down the hall. “This way.”
I led him into the study, closing the double doors behind us.
I’d never spent much time in this room. It was too polished, too staged. But I didn’t want to bring him to my private office. There were things in there he didn’t need to see.
As grateful as I was that one of my friends from the navy was now a top neurologist who happily dropped everything to assess Ariana’s mother, I didn’t want to involve him in this any more than I already had. He had a wife. Kids. With all the uncertainty, I wasn’t willing to put them at risk.
I was lucky enough to know someone to call in this type of situation, even if we hadn’t spoken in years.
That was the thing about going through basic training together.
It created a bond we’d carry the rest of our lives.
If one of my military brothers was in trouble, I’d drop everything to help.
Just like Clark dropped everything to help me.
“How’s she doing?” I asked him, gesturing toward the leather couch in the center of the room. “I just saw her outside. She seems...clear.” I lowered myself into the armchair opposite him, resting my elbows on my knees.
“I’ve spent several hours with her this morning, running my own assessment and scans. I’ve also reviewed the records you provided.” He hesitated, and I knew whatever he was about to say wasn’t good. “There are…discrepancies.”
“Like what?”
He turned his tablet toward me, revealing what appeared to be two different brain scans. He may as well have given me a book written in a foreign language. I had no idea what I was looking at. But Clark did. He’d come a long way from the scrawny kid I met during basic training.
“The image on the left is the scan of Mrs. Summers’ brain I performed today,” he explained. “The one on the right was in her medical file, supposedly taken by Dr. Schaffer last month.”
“Okay…,” I drew out, studying the images.
They appeared different, but I didn’t know if that was to be expected.
“The scan from today shows no atrophy. No reduced dopamine activity. No plaques or Lewy bodies. No markers of neurodegeneration whatsoever. That level of improvement in four weeks isn’t just improbable, Henry. It’s impossible.”
A slow heat built in my chest. “Could the equipment have been faulty?”
“Not likely. But I repeated the scan on a secondary machine. The results are identical.” He narrowed his dark eyes at me. “The scans in her file aren’t hers.”
I sat back in my chair, letting that sink in. “So you’re saying she doesn’t have dementia.”
“All I’m saying is that based on the scan I performed today, her brain shows no indication of ever having any neurological impairment.”
“How do you explain the confusion? Paranoia? Tremors? Ariana observed those with her own eyes. Told me about her slow deterioration over the years.”
“I’m not dismissing she may have exhibited those symptoms,” he stated evenly. “But I’m not convinced they stem from a neurodegenerative disease. Which is why I ran some panels. Blood. Urine.”
“Did you find something?”
He nodded. “I tested for every compound I could think of that might induce cognitive impairment.”
“And?”
“I picked up traces of multiple medications. Antipsychotics. Anticholinergics. Barbiturates. Now, these drugs can sometimes be used to treat certain symptoms of Lewy Body Dementia, but the specific antipsychotic in her system caught my attention.”
“How so?”
“If given intermittently, it can induce tremors, rigidity, paranoia. Essentially mimic Parkinsonian or Lewy Body symptoms.”
I gritted my teeth. “And the others?”
“The anticholinergic causes confusion and hallucinations. The barbiturates dull cognition. Each one alone might be defensible. Anticholinergics are often used to manage tremors associated with LBD, and benzodiazepines can be given to help with sleep or anxiety, particularly if a patient is suffering from severe moments of paranoia. But when I look at the bigger picture here, specifically the brain scans?” He shook his head.
“This looks deliberate. My opinion is that someone wanted her to think she’d lost her mind.
Or someone wanted those close to her to think she’d lost her mind. ”
I stared at the two scans again, my reflection faint in the glass screen — jaw tight, eyes flat, my blood boiling the more I thought about everything. About the reason for all of this.
About who would do this.
There was no doubt in my mind Victor was behind it.
According to Ariana, her mother hadn’t shown symptoms of impaired brain function until after Victor Kane entered their lives. Sure, she suffered from depression after losing her husband, but she’d exhibited no signs of dementia until Victor.
And he’d swooped in like a savior, paying for treatments, handling the logistics, weaving his web of control. He’d found a way to weaponize her fragility, to chain Ariana with it.
My hands curled into fists, the sound of my pulse drowning out everything else.
Victor didn’t just ruin Ariana. He destroyed everyone she loved. Hollowed them out. Turned them into tools for his manipulation.
“What do we do now?” My voice was low. Controlled. The kind of calm that came before the most ferocious of storms.
“Assuming you acquired her records through less than legal means, I can make an anonymous tip to the ethics board.”
I waved him off. “I’ll deal with Schaffer myself. I was talking about Daphne. What’s your recommendation for her continuing care?”
“If my theory is correct, we’ll need to wean her off these drugs carefully.
There could be side effects. I’ve briefed Krystal on the protocols.
She’ll monitor Mrs. Summers closely and call me if anything changes.
I’ll be sure to check in on her regularly, as well, but for now, having a nurse here will ensure she receives any care and treatment she may need. ”
I nodded, forcing my jaw to unclench. “Thanks, Clark. I really appreciate this.”
He offered a faint smile. “It’s the least I can do after everything you did for me during basic training. Not sure I would have made it if it weren’t for you.”
Despite the weight in my chest, I let out a quiet breath of amusement. “You would have. You just needed someone to commiserate with.”
“I’m glad it was you, brother,” he replied as he stood. “I’ll come by in the morning to check on her.”
“Let me walk you out.” I rose to my feet.
“No need.” He waved me off, heading toward the door and pulling it open. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
His steps echoed down the hallway as he retreated, and I sank back into my chair.
Every instinct in me screamed for violence.
For retaliation.
I’d had my suspicions Dr. Schaffer was shady, especially after finding large donations from Victor to one of his charities. To most, it would look generous — an extremely philanthropic man supporting the doctor who was helping his wife’s mother.
But I knew better.
Victor didn’t do anything without expecting something in return.
And now I knew exactly what he’d expected.
“Everything okay?”
I barked out a laugh as Blake walked into the study. “Not even close.”
“What did the doc say?” he asked, sitting in the chair opposite me.
I shook my head, unsure where to begin.
But I did know one thing.
“I think it’s time Dr. Schaffer answered a few questions.”
A slow, dangerous smile curved on Blake’s lips. “Consider it done.”