PART 2
Richard didn’t answer.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The doctor stood between him and the monitor, one hand resting against the edge of the desk. My mother remained seated on the examination table, her fingers wrapped around mine.
And Richard just stared at her.
Not like a son-in-law looking at an elderly woman.
Not even like a frightened husband looking at his wife.
He looked at her like he was looking at evidence.
Evidence that had survived.
Evidence that had finally surfaced.
Evidence that could destroy him.
I slowly turned toward him.
“Richard…”
He looked at me.
“What?”
His voice was suddenly calm.
Too calm.
“What did my mother mean?”
He swallowed.
“I have no idea.”
My mother laughed.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
It was the exhausted laugh of someone who had spent years waiting for a moment that she wasn’t sure would ever come.
“Still lying,” she whispered.
Richard’s jaw tightened.
The doctor looked from him to my mother.
“Mr. Collins, how did you know your wife brought her mother here?”
Richard’s eyes flicked toward me.
“I tracked her phone.”
My stomach dropped.
“You what?”
“You turned your phone off,” he said. “I was worried.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You weren’t worried.”
His expression hardened.
“Sarah, this isn’t the time.”
“Then when is the time?”
My voice cracked.
“You told me she was faking her pain.”
“Because she was.”
My mother looked at him.
“You knew.”
Richard stared at her.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
The doctor raised his hand.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
He looked at my mother.
“Mrs. Bennett, before we discuss the object, I need to ask you a few questions.”
My mother nodded.
“Did you knowingly swallow or receive this object?”
“No.”
“Do you know how it got inside you?”
She hesitated.
Then she looked at me.
“I know who put it there.”
The room went silent.
I felt my heart pounding against my ribs.
“Who?”
My mother opened her mouth.
But before she could answer, Richard stepped forward.
“She’s confused.”
The doctor immediately turned toward him.
“Sir, I didn’t ask you.”
Richard stopped.
Something about the doctor’s voice made him step back.
My mother looked at me again.
“Sarah, you have to understand something.”
“What?”
“For years, I thought keeping quiet would protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
She closed her eyes.
“From your husband.”
My blood went cold.
Richard shook his head.
“That’s enough.”
I turned toward him.
“Don’t tell my mother when she’s allowed to speak.”
He stared at me.
For the first time in our marriage, I saw something in his face that I had never seen before.
Fear.
Real fear.
The doctor pulled the monitor closer.
“Mrs. Bennett, this object appears to be metallic or densely manufactured. We need additional imaging and probably a surgical consultation.”
Richard immediately said, “No.”
Everyone looked at him.
He corrected himself.
“I mean… surgery at her age could be dangerous.”
The doctor frowned.
“We haven’t said surgery yet.”
Richard’s mouth closed.
My mother smiled faintly.
“That’s exactly what he said the last time.”
I turned toward her.
“The last time?”
She nodded.
“Three years ago.”
“What happened three years ago?”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“I had the same pain.”
I stared at her.
“Mom…”
“He took me to a doctor.”
Richard suddenly looked away.
“Who?”
“A doctor named Dr. Halpern.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“What happened?”
My mother swallowed.
“He told me I had severe inflammation and needed rest.”
“Wasn’t there a scan?”
“He ordered one.”
“And?”
“They never showed me the results.”
My heart began racing.
“Why?”
My mother looked at Richard.
“Because he came into the room before the doctor spoke to me.”
Richard’s face had gone pale again.
I turned to him.
“You were there?”
“I was helping her.”
“You told me you weren’t.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember?”
I stepped closer.
“You said you were at a property meeting that entire afternoon.”
He didn’t answer.
The doctor looked at Richard carefully.
Then he looked at my mother.
“Mrs. Bennett, did you ever consent to any procedure involving an implant, device, or foreign object?”
“No.”
“Any surgery?”
“No.”
“Any accident?”
“No.”
“Any medical treatment involving your abdomen?”
“No.”
The doctor slowly nodded.
“Then we need to treat this as a potentially serious unexplained foreign body.”
My mother squeezed my hand.
“There’s more.”
I leaned closer.
“What?”
She whispered:
“The thing inside me isn’t the secret.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The secret is what’s inside it.”
I stared at her.
The doctor looked equally confused.
Richard suddenly stepped toward the door.
“I’m leaving.”
I turned.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“You came here without telling me. You turned off your phone. You are letting your mother accuse me of things that happened years ago. I’m not staying.”
I looked at him.
“Why are you afraid of a piece of metal?”
His face changed.
Just for a second.
But I saw it.
He was afraid.
Not of my mother.
Not of the doctor.
Of that object.
The doctor stepped in front of the doorway.
“Nobody is leaving until we understand whether the patient is medically stable.”
Richard glared at him.
“You can’t hold me here.”
“No one is holding you.”
The doctor pointed toward the chair.
“But you should sit down.”
Richard reluctantly did.
A nurse entered.
She whispered something to the doctor.
The doctor’s expression changed.
“What?”
I asked.
He looked at me.
“The radiologist reviewed the scan.”
“And?”
“He wants another scan immediately.”
“Why?”
The doctor hesitated.
“Because the object isn’t where we initially thought it was.”
My mother’s face went white.
“What do you mean?”
The doctor turned the monitor toward us.
“I’ll show you.”
He enlarged the image.
The black object was visible.
But now I noticed something else.
There was a thin line extending from it.
Almost like a wire.
The line disappeared behind another organ.
I felt sick.
“What’s that?”
“We don’t know.”
Richard stood abruptly.
“That’s enough.”
The doctor turned.
“Sit down.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Richard said nothing.
The doctor studied him.
Then he asked quietly:
“Have you seen this device before?”
Richard’s lips parted.
For a moment, I thought he would deny everything.
Instead, he whispered:
“No.”
My mother laughed again.
“You said the same thing seven years ago.”
I turned toward her.
“Seven years ago?”
She nodded.
“That’s when it started.”
“What started?”
“The payments.”
“What payments?”
She looked at Richard.
“Ask your husband why he has been sending money to a company called Meridian Recovery.”
Richard’s entire body went rigid.
I stared at him.
“What is Meridian Recovery?”
He didn’t answer.
I pulled out my phone.
“I’ll find out.”
Richard lunged toward me.
“Sarah, don’t.”
I stepped back.
The doctor immediately moved between us.
“Do not touch her.”
Richard stopped.
My hands were shaking as I searched the name.
The first results were vague.
Debt recovery.
Medical consulting.
Asset management.
Private investigations.
Nothing that explained anything.
Then I saw something.
A corporate filing.
Meridian Recovery Group.
Registered seven years earlier.
The listed managing director was a man named Daniel Voss.
My stomach tightened.
Because I knew that name.
I’d seen it before.
On one of Richard’s old emails.
I remembered the night.
Three years ago.
I’d asked him who Daniel Voss was.
He’d laughed and said:
“Just some idiot who owes my company money.”
Now I looked at my mother.
She was staring at me.
“You know him,” she said.
“I think I do.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Then you finally understand why I begged you not to marry Richard.”
I felt like someone had punched me.
“You never begged me.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Before your wedding.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You were already in love.”
I looked at Richard.
He was silent.
My mother continued.
“I found something.”
“What?”
“Your father’s old papers.”
I froze.
“My father?”
My father had died when I was nineteen.
For years, I believed he had been a simple construction manager who died of a heart attack.
“What papers?”
My mother looked at the doctor.
Then at Richard.
Then back at me.
“Your father didn’t die because of a heart attack.”
The room seemed to disappear.
“What?”
“He was murdered.”
My knees almost gave out.
Richard whispered:
“She’s delirious.”
I turned toward him.
“Stop saying that.”
My voice came out stronger than I expected.
My mother continued.
“Your father discovered that several properties were being transferred through shell companies. He tried to expose them.”
I stared at her.
“Who?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mom, who?”
She pointed at Richard.
“His father.”
Silence.
Richard’s face became expressionless.
My mind raced.
Richard’s father, Edward Collins, had died eight years earlier.
A respected businessman.
Real estate developer.
Charity donor.
The man everyone described as generous.
The man who had welcomed me into his family.
The man who had given Richard his first position at the company.
My mother whispered:
“Your father found evidence that Edward Collins was stealing properties from elderly people through fraudulent contracts.”