Chapter 6 - Unmasked
Elaine was the first to break the silence, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh that sounded entirely forced. "She's lost her mind. Daniel, your wife has completely lost her mind. The fall must have caused a concussion."
"I don't have a concussion, Elaine," I said, holding my ground near the entry hall. "I saw the CT scan at Mission Hospital last night. Dr. Cole showed me the four titanium screws in my lumbar spine."
Dr. Thorne's hand tightened almost imperceptibly around the syringe he was holding. His charming bedside manner began to slip away, revealing the cold, mercenary intellect beneath.
"Dr. Cole is a general practitioner working in an emergency room," Dr. Thorne said smoothly, taking a slow step toward me. "He doesn't understand the complex biomechanics of custom spinal reconstruction. Hardware shifts over time, Rebecca. It’s a known risk of the procedure."
"Not in that pattern," I countered, recalling Dr. Cole’s exact words. "Screws don't mechanically back themselves out in perfect symmetry without human intervention. You designed those implants to fail, didn't you? You didn't just fuse my spine eighteen months ago—you installed a ticking clock inside my body."
Daniel stepped up beside his mother, his face dark with fury. "Rebecca, shut your mouth right now. You are making wild, insane accusations in front of guests."
"Am I, Daniel?" I looked straight at my husband. "How much was the life insurance policy again? Four million dollars? And my family's real estate trust fund—another six million? All transferred to you the moment my spine gives out and I suffer a 'fatal surgical complication'."
Richard set his coffee cup down on the mantelpiece with a heavy thud. The polite veneer of the wealthy country host vanished completely, replaced by the ruthless corporate predator who ran the family business.
"Daniel," Richard said, his voice dropping an octave, cold and dangerous. "Get your wife into the study. Now."
Daniel moved instantly, grabbing my upper arm with a grip that left no room for resistance. He yanked me toward the hallway leading to Richard's private office.
"Let go of me!" I screamed, pulling against his weight, but my left leg gave out under the strain, sending me dragging across the hardwood floor.
"Dr. Thorne, give her the sedative," Elaine instructed calmly, sitting back on the sofa and picking up her coffee cup as if she were ordering a second pastry. "We'll handle the paperwork once she's quieted down."
Dr. Thorne stepped out of the living room, holding the syringe firmly in his right hand, his face blank and emotionless.
"This will only make you sleep, Rebecca," Dr. Thorne said quietly, crouching down beside me as Daniel pinned my shoulders to the floorboards. "You won't feel a thing."
I struggled wildly, my right hand reaching into my coat pocket, my fingers wrapping around the cold brass handle of the letter opener. As Dr. Thorne leaned down, reaching for my arm, I whipped the brass blade out of my pocket and slashed it across his wrist.
Dr. Thorne let out a sharp cry of pain, dropping the syringe onto the floor. The glass tube shattered against the hardwood, spraying a clear, odorless liquid across the floorboards.
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"You bitch!" Daniel yelled, shifting his grip to snatch the letter opener from my hand.
Before he could grab my wrist, the heavy front doors of the lodge burst open with a deafening crash, throwing cold air and snow violently into the grand foyer.
