Chapter 7 - The Ledger of Blood
Dr. Thorne walked over to the IV pole, checking the flow regulator. "The court-ordered medical review is scheduled for the fifteenth of next month. Judge Vance's estate attorneys have already appointed an independent neurological board from Johns Hopkins to perform a full nerve-conduction study."
"I know," Victoria replied, her reflection in the glass window staying perfectly still. "That's why I hired the Miller girl tonight."
"It was a mistake," Thorne warned, his voice sharpening. "Using a child actor to trigger a controlled hysterical episode in front of two hundred witnesses was wildly risky. If the girl's father decides to talk—"
"The girl's father is a disgraced former orthopedic surgeon with a revoked license and six hundred thousand dollars in gambling debts to a cartel in Reno," Victoria snapped, turning her head to glare at him. "He won't talk. He understands that if he talks, he goes to federal prison for extortion, and his daughter enters state custody."
She walked back to the bed, standing over Julian’s helpless form.
She reached down, her cool fingers stroking his forehead, smoothing his dark hair back from his temples. Julian wanted to scream, to bite her hand, to pull the IV needle out of his arm and strangle her with the plastic tubing, but his body remained utterly limp, a stone slab on the soft white sheets.
"The Johns Hopkins team will find what they expect to find," Victoria continued softly. "A tragic case of progressive reflex sympathetic dystrophy. Advanced stage. Irreversible spinal atrophy."
"To guarantee those results on the nerve-conduction test, we will have to increase the chemical neuro-blocker by forty percent," Thorne said, reaching for the small brown glass bottle on the tray. "At that concentration, Victoria, there is a risk of permanent peripheral motor nerve necrosis. He might never regain sensation in his legs, even if you stop the treatment later."
Victoria didn't hesitate for a single second.
"Prepare the injection, Harrison," she said.
Julian’s heart began to hammer frantically against his ribs. The cardiac monitor on the table let out a soft, rhythmic beep-beep-beep that accelerated rapidly.
Thorne glanced at the monitor. "His heart rate is spiking. He can hear us, Victoria."
Victoria leaned down until her lips were an inch from Julian’s ear. Her breath smelled of mint and bitter almonds.
"I know you can hear me, my sweet boy," she whispered, her voice filled with that horrible, sickening velvet tenderness. "And I know you're angry. But you don't understand how cruel the world is out there. Your father wanted to leave you nothing. He wanted to divide his billions among his charities and his bastard children in Seattle. He thought you were weak, Julian. He told me you didn't have the stomach for this family."
May you like
She stroked his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw.
"I saved you from him," she murmured. "I made sure that when his car went off that bridge, his will couldn't be touched. As long as you are my sweet, helpless, crippled little boy, I control the entire Vance estate. I protect you. I keep you safe from everyone who would take what is ours. You don't need legs, Julian. You have me."
