Dr. Helen was the renowned pediatric ophthalmologist who had been treating Maya. She was the one who diagnosed the macular degeneration. She was the one who prescribed the expensive imported eye drops that never seemed to work.
“Yes,” Jonah nodded vigorously. “The doctor. Three days ago, I was hiding behind the hibiscus bushes near the back gate. The doctor came through the side entrance. Madam Victoria met her there. The doctor gave her a small brown envelope and said, ‘This is the last batch. If you use more than a pinch, her heart will stop before the blindness is permanent, and the autopsy will catch it.’ Madam Victoria gave the doctor a very thick envelope of dollars. Then they hugged.”
The revelation hit Jerry like a physical blow to the chest.
A gasp escaped his lips as he stumbled back against his desk.
It was not just Victoria. It was a conspiracy.
The very doctor tasked with saving his daughter’s sight was the architect of her destruction.
The illness was a manufactured lie to cover up a slow, agonizing assassination.
Suddenly, Jerry’s phone rang again. It was Dr. Mike, the underground toxicologist. Jerry put it on speaker.
“Chief Williams.” Dr. Mike’s voice was breathless, filled with scientific horror. “I ran the mass spectrometry on the broth sample you sent. Chief, this is diabolical. The broth is laced with a highly synthesized, slow-acting neurotoxin. It’s a derivative of heavy metals mixed with a rare botanical extract. It specifically targets the optic nerve first, mimicking severe macular degeneration before it slowly paralyzes the central nervous system. If your daughter consumed this tonight and combined it with the specific chemical compounds found in standard eye drops, her heart would stop.”
