CHAPTER 2 — THE DOCTOR WHO DECLARED HER DEAD
CHAPTER 2 — THE DOCTOR WHO DECLARED HER DEAD
The man standing in the doorway did not move.
Neither did Theodore.
For one suspended second, the hospital room seemed to lose all sound.
The machines beside Rosalie continued their steady rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
But Theodore heard only his sister's breathing.
Fast.
Terrified.
She had recognized the voice.
He had recognized it too.
“Sebastian?”
His younger brother stood in the doorway.
His face was pale.
His hands were empty.
“I heard shouting,” Sebastian said.
Rosalie stared at him.
Then she pulled her hand from Theodore's.
“Don't.”
One word.
Barely audible.
But it changed everything.
Sebastian stopped.
Theodore moved between them.
“What were you doing outside?”
“I came to check on her.”
“You came at three in the morning?”
“I couldn't sleep.”
“Why?”
Sebastian looked at Rosalie.
“I was worried.”
Rosalie shook her head.
“No.”
Sebastian's expression tightened.
“Rosalie, what are you talking about?”
“You were there.”
“Where?”
Her breathing became shallow.
“The room.”
Sebastian didn't answer.
Theodore noticed.
That silence was enough.
He turned toward his brother.
“What room?”
Sebastian swallowed.
“I don't know what she means.”
Rosalie's fingers began trembling.
“You held the door.”
Sebastian's face went white.
Theodore's voice dropped.
“You were there.”
“No.”
“You were there when Mercer injected her.”
“I wasn't.”
“Rosalie says you were.”
“She was unconscious.”
Rosalie suddenly spoke.
“I wasn't.”
Everyone went silent.
She looked at Sebastian.
“I heard you.”
Her voice cracked.
“You said, ‘She'll never forgive us.’”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
Theodore stared at him.
“What did you do?”
“I didn't hurt her.”
“Then what did you do?”
Sebastian looked at his sister.
“I tried to stop it.”
The Man Behind the Door
Theodore's anger sharpened.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“You watched Mercer drug her.”
“I didn't know what he was doing.”
“You watched.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“After.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Sebastian stepped inside.
“I was told Rosalie was dying.”
“By whom?”
“Mother.”
Theodore laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Sebastian shook his head.
“No. Listen to me.”
“I went to the room because Mother told me Rosalie had collapsed.”
“She said Mercer was treating her.”
“I believed her.”
“Then I saw the syringe.”
He looked at Rosalie.
“I knew something was wrong.”
“So why didn't you call an ambulance?”
“I did.”
Theodore froze.
“What?”
“I called.”
“When?”
“After I left.”
“Where's the call record?”
Sebastian reached for his phone.
Then stopped.
“The call didn't connect.”
Theodore stared.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Show me.”
Sebastian handed over the phone.
Theodore checked the call history.
Nothing.
No outgoing call.
No emergency number.
No missed call.
Nothing.
“You didn't call.”
“I did.”
“Then why isn't it here?”
Sebastian shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Rosalie whispered:
“Because he didn't call.”
Everyone turned toward her.
She closed her eyes.
“He called someone else.”
Theodore looked at Sebastian.
“Who?”
Sebastian didn't answer.
Theodore stepped closer.
“Who did you call?”
Finally, Sebastian whispered:
“Mercer.”
The Doctor
Dr. Mercer was sitting alone in a security office two floors below.
Two police officers stood outside the door.
He was not under arrest.
Not yet.
But he knew it was coming.
He had already been questioned twice.
He had given the same answer each time.
Rosalie Vale had died.
He had followed procedure.
He had made a mistake.
A tragic mistake.
Nothing more.
Then Theodore entered.
Mercer looked up.
“I have nothing else to say.”
Theodore closed the door behind him.
“You've already said enough.”
Mercer frowned.
“You declared my sister dead.”
“Yes.”
“You signed her death certificate.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't send her to a hospital.”
“She showed no signs of life.”
“You examined her for less than ten minutes.”
Mercer said nothing.
“You knew she wasn't dead.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
“No.”
Theodore leaned over the table.
“Then explain this.”
He placed the medical report in front of Mercer.
Mercer's eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
Theodore saw it.
Fear.
“You wrote that Rosalie's pupils were fixed.”
“Yes.”
“You wrote that she had no respiratory activity.”
“Yes.”
“You wrote that her pulse was absent.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn't write her body temperature.”
Mercer remained silent.
“Why?”
“I didn't consider it relevant.”
Theodore smiled coldly.
“You didn't consider the temperature of a supposedly dead woman relevant?”
Mercer looked away.
Theodore pushed another page toward him.
“The hospital measured it.”
Mercer's face changed.
“Thirty-two degrees Celsius.”
The doctor said nothing.
“That isn't normal.”
“No.”
“That isn't a natural death.”
Mercer stared at him.
“You're not a physician.”
“No.”
“But I know enough to recognize a lie.”
Mercer finally looked up.
“You think I wanted this?”
“I think you did exactly what someone paid you to do.”
The Missing Examination
Theodore pulled out his phone.
“Where is the full examination?”
Mercer frowned.
“What?”
“The examination you supposedly performed.”
“I gave you the report.”
“No.”
“I gave you the report that you wanted.”
Mercer stopped.
Theodore slowly smiled.
“That's what you meant, isn't it?”
Mercer's shoulders sank.
“There is another report.”
“Where?”
“I don't have it.”
“Who does?”
Mercer looked toward the ceiling.
Then whispered:
“Eleanor.”
Theodore's expression hardened.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“What did she receive?”
“A copy.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Stop lying.”
Mercer closed his eyes.
“She wanted proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Rosalie was dead.”
Theodore stared.
“Why would my mother need proof that her own daughter was dead?”
Mercer didn't answer.
Theodore's voice became quieter.
“Because she knew someone would question it.”
Mercer looked at him.
“Yes.”
The Real Examination
Mercer finally confessed.
He had examined Rosalie earlier that morning.
Not at the Vale residence.
At a private medical facility owned by a shell company.
She had arrived unconscious.
Her pulse was dangerously weak.
But present.
He knew she was alive.
“Then why declare her dead?”
Mercer looked at the floor.
“I was threatened.”
“By whom?”
“I can't tell you.”
“You can.”
“No.”
“Your career is already over.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you protecting?”
Mercer looked up.
“My daughter.”
Theodore went still.
“What?”
“They have my daughter.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you know they have her?”
“Because every Friday, I receive a photograph.”
“Of her?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I never know.”
Theodore stared.
“Why not go to the police?”
Mercer laughed bitterly.
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“The next photograph showed my daughter sleeping.”
There was a pause.
“They were standing beside her.”
Theodore felt cold.
“They knew I had gone to the police.”
The Woman in the Photograph
Mercer opened his wallet.
He removed a photograph.
A teenage girl was sleeping in a bed.
Beside her stood a woman.
Her face was mostly hidden.
But Theodore could see one thing.
A pearl bracelet.
He knew it.
He had seen it countless times.
“That's Mother's.”
Mercer looked at him.
“Whose?”
“My mother's.”
The doctor closed his eyes.
“I suspected.”
Theodore's hands tightened.
“Eleanor has your daughter?”
“I don't know.”
“But she has the bracelet.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get this photograph?”
“It arrived yesterday.”
Theodore stared at it.
Yesterday.
Before Rosalie's funeral.
Before the coffin.
Before everything.
He turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
A single sentence.
THE FIRST DAUGHTER MUST DIE BEFORE THE SECOND ONE REMEMBERS.
Theodore's blood ran cold.
“The first daughter.”
Mercer said nothing.
“Who is the second?”
“I don't know.”
Theodore looked at him.
“Then why are you afraid?”
Mercer whispered:
“Because I think it's you.”
Rosalie Remembers
Upstairs, Rosalie was awake.
Sebastian sat beside her.
He looked devastated.
“I am sorry.”
Rosalie stared at him.
“You knew.”
“I knew something was wrong.”
“You saw me.”
“Yes.”
“You left me.”
“I thought I could come back.”
“You didn't.”
“I was afraid.”
Rosalie turned her face away.
“Everybody was afraid.”
“I know.”
“No one was afraid enough to save me.”
Sebastian looked down.
“I called Mother.”
Rosalie looked back.
“Why?”
“I didn't know who else to call.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me to leave.”
Rosalie's eyes widened.
“She said?”
“She said Mercer had everything under control.”
“And you believed her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Sebastian couldn't answer.
Rosalie whispered:
“Because she's Mother.”
He looked at her.
“I've spent my whole life believing she would never hurt us.”
Rosalie's voice was almost inaudible.
“She didn't have to hurt us.”
“What?”
“She taught us to hurt ourselves for her.”
The Hospital Camera
Theodore returned to the emergency department.
He demanded access to the security recordings.
The hospital administrator refused.
“Medical privacy.”
“This is a potential attempted murder.”
“We still require a warrant.”
Theodore reached into his coat.
He placed a document on the desk.
The administrator read it.
His expression changed.
“This isn't a warrant.”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“A court order.”
“You got this in three hours?”
“I have friends who work quickly.”
The administrator sighed.
“Fine.”
They entered the security room.
Dozens of monitors displayed hallways.
Theodore gave the technician the exact time.
“Show me the conservatory.”
The footage began.
Rosalie's coffin sat beneath the glass roof.
Mourners moved around it.
Then the screen froze.
The technician frowned.
“What?”
“Someone corrupted the file.”
“Can you restore it?”
“Maybe.”
He tried.
The screen flickered.
Then the missing footage appeared.
Theodore leaned forward.
At 8:54 a.m., a black car arrived.
A woman stepped out.
Long coat.
Dark sunglasses.
She entered the estate.
Nine minutes later, Mercer followed.
At 9:21, the woman left.
Theodore froze the frame.
“Zoom in.”
The image sharpened.
The sunglasses didn't matter.
The coat didn't matter.
The face was enough.
Eleanor.
His mother.
She had entered the estate before Mercer declared Rosalie dead.
And she had left six minutes before the death certificate was signed.
Theodore stared at the screen.
Then noticed something else.
At 9:22, another person entered.
A man.
He carried a small medical case.
The technician zoomed in.
Theodore stopped breathing.
He knew him.
Everyone in the Vale family knew him.
It was Sebastian.
The Second Recording
Theodore turned toward his brother.
“Why did you go back?”
Sebastian stared at the footage.
“I don't remember.”
“You were there.”
“I know.”
“You entered after Mother left.”
“I don't remember.”
“You were carrying a medical case.”
“I don't know why.”
“You expect me to believe you lost an hour of your memory?”
Sebastian touched his forehead.
“I remember walking into the building.”
“Then what?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“I woke up in my car.”
“When?”
“After the funeral began.”
Theodore stared at him.
“Who put you in the car?”
“I don't know.”
The room fell silent.
The technician suddenly spoke.
“There's another file.”
“What?”
“It was hidden.”
He opened it.
A second camera angle appeared.
It showed a hallway inside the private facility.
Mercer stood beside Rosalie.
Eleanor stood across from him.
And Sebastian was between them.
Theodore watched.
Eleanor handed Mercer an envelope.
Mercer opened it.
Then Sebastian said something.
The audio was distorted.
The technician cleaned it.
The words became clear.
“She's your sister.”
Eleanor's voice.
Sebastian answered:
“I know.”
Then Mercer said:
“Once she is declared dead, the transfer can proceed.”
Theodore's stomach dropped.
“What transfer?”
The footage continued.
Eleanor placed another document on the table.
Rosalie's signature was already on it.
Theodore leaned closer.
He recognized the document.
It was an inheritance transfer agreement.
The date was tomorrow.
The beneficiary was not Eleanor.
Not Sebastian.
Not Theodore.
It was someone else.
The technician zoomed in.
The name appeared.
VICTORIA VALE.
Theodore whispered:
“Who the hell is Victoria?”
Mercer answered from behind him.
“You don't know?”
Theodore turned.
Mercer was standing in the doorway.
His face had gone completely white.
“She is the reason Rosalie was buried.”
The Name
“Who is she?” Theodore demanded.
Mercer shook his head.
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
Mercer looked toward the security monitor.
“Victoria Vale is Eleanor's sister.”
Theodore stared.
“My mother has a sister?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Mercer swallowed.
“Dead.”
Theodore looked at the screen.
“Then how can she inherit Rosalie's estate?”
Mercer whispered:
“Because she isn't dead.”
Silence.
Theodore felt the world shift beneath him.
Another family member.
Another supposed death.
Another lie.
Mercer stepped closer.
“She has been dead on paper for eighteen years.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone thought she was the victim.”
“The victim of what?”
Mercer looked directly at Theodore.
“The first time this family buried someone alive.”
The Voice on the Phone
Theodore's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?”
No response.
Then a woman's voice.
Calm.
Cold.
Familiar.
“You've been asking the wrong questions, Theodore.”
His blood froze.
“Who is this?”
“You want to know why Rosalie survived.”
“Yes.”
“You want to know why your mother lied.”
“Yes.”
“You want to know who ordered Mercer to declare your sister dead.”
“Yes.”
The woman laughed softly.
“Then stop asking who wanted Rosalie dead.”
Theodore's hand tightened around the phone.
“Why?”
“Because the more important question is…”
A pause.
“…who benefits from believing she is dead?”
The line went silent.
Then a final message arrived.
COME TO THE OLD VALE CHAPEL ALONE.
Theodore stared at it.
Mercer saw the screen.
“Don't go.”
“Why?”
“Because that's where Victoria keeps her records.”
Theodore looked at him.
“And if I don't?”
Mercer lowered his voice.
“Then Rosalie will die for real.”
The Woman in the Chapel
At 4:30 a.m., Theodore stood outside the old Vale chapel.
Rain fell heavily.
The door was unlocked.
He entered.
Candles burned along the walls.
No one was there.
Then he heard footsteps.
A woman appeared from behind the altar.
She was older.
Elegant.
Pale.
Her hair was silver.
But her eyes were unmistakable.
They were Eleanor's eyes.
Theodore stopped.
“Victoria?”
The woman smiled.
“You finally came.”
He reached for his phone.
She shook her head.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because if you call anyone, Rosalie dies.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I arranged the coffin.”
Theodore felt sick.
“You put her there.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to kill my sister.”
“No.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“I saved her.”
He stared at her.
“What?”
“Rosalie was supposed to die in that room.”
“Mercer was ordered to stop her heart.”
“Eleanor knew.”
“Sebastian knew.”
“I knew.”
“But I changed the dose.”
Theodore couldn't speak.
Victoria continued.
“I knew someone would eventually open the coffin.”
“And I knew that someone would be you.”
“Why?”
“Because you were the only person in this family who still loved her more than you loved the Vale name.”
Theodore's voice hardened.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I needed you to see the truth yourself.”
“What truth?”
Victoria smiled.
“Theodore…”
She pointed toward the chapel's old crypt.
“Your mother isn't the villain.”
“Mercer isn't the villain.”
“Even I am not the villain.”
Theodore stared at her.
“Then who is?”
Victoria's smile disappeared.
“The man who taught us all how to lie.”
The crypt door opened behind her.
And from the darkness came a voice Theodore had not heard since childhood.
A voice he had believed belonged to a dead man.
His father's voice.
“Come inside, son.”
Theodore stopped breathing.
May you like
Because his father had been buried eighteen years ago.
And yet someone was waiting for him beneath the chapel.
