Chapter 1 - THE FORENSIC MIRRORDr. Mercer didn’t wait for Graham to argue. He called security, and two officers escorted my husband into the hallway, his boots squeaking against the linoleum. The heavy door clicked shut, leaving an oppressive silence in the room.
"Nora," Dr. Mercer began, pulling up the digital scans on the wall-mounted monitor. "We took X-rays of your torso, but we also took a full-body scan due to your elevated pain levels."
He pointed to my left rib cage. Three ribs were fractured cleanly from the fall down the basement stairs. But then his finger moved lower, pointing to my right hip, my left forearm, and my collarbone.
"The fresh fractures are here," Dr. Mercer said quietly. "But do you see these faint white lines? These high-density bands along the bone?"
I stared at the screen, my heart hammering against my shattered ribs. "What are those?"
"Calluses," he said, his voice deadly calm. "Bone calluses formed from previously healed fractures. You have a healed micro-fracture on your radius, two old hairline fractures on your right femur, and three healed rib fractures on your right side. Some are eighteen months old; others are older."
I blinked, confused. "I’ve never broken a bone in my life. I’ve never been in a car accident."
"Nora," Dr. Mercer looked me dead in the eye. "These aren't injuries from a single fall. These are defense wounds and blunt force trauma that healed incorrectly without medical intervention. Someone has been hurting you, or... someone has been drugging you and causing injury while you were unconscious."
Cold dread flooded my veins.
Eighteen months ago.
Eighteen months ago was when I moved into the family compound with Graham and Judith after his father passed away. Eighteen months ago was when I started experiencing unexplained "migraines" that left me blacked out for twelve hours at a time, waking up with massive bruises that Judith always claimed were from me bumping into furniture while sleepwalking.
Before I could process the realization, the ER door burst open. It wasn't Graham.
It was Judith.
She was dressed in her pristine cream-colored coat, completely unbothered by the rain. Beside her stood a man in a tailored dark suit carrying a leather briefcase—the family lawyer, Richard Sterling.
Judith didn't look at me. She looked at Dr. Mercer, her face a mask of cold arrogance. "Doctor, I am Judith Vance. I own the Vance Medical Foundation, which happens to fund thirty percent of this hospital’s research wing. I suggest you hand over my daughter-in-law’s medical files immediately and release her into our private care."
Dr. Mercer didn't flinch. "Mrs. Vance, this is a crime scene, and your daughter-in-law is a victim of severe physical trauma. You need to step back."
Judith smiled—a thin, toxic sliver of a smile. "Oh, Doctor. You think this started today? Check her blood test results. Look at her tox screen."
Dr. Mercer turned to his computer terminal, clicking open the lab report that had just finalized. His eyes widened slightly.
"What is it?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
May you like
Judith stepped closer to my bed, leaning down so only I could hear her, smelling of lavender and old copper. "Tell him, Doctor. Tell my poor, unstable daughter-in-law what’s currently swimming in her bloodstream."
Dr. Mercer looked up from the screen, his tone grim. "Nora... your blood test just came back positive for high doses of arsenic and severe hallucinogenic sedatives."
