Chapter 8 - The Medical Fraud
I stared at the word until the letters completely blurred together.
Benign.
I flipped frantically to the second page of the pathology report.
No evidence of malignancy.
No cancerous cells detected in any of the tissue samples.
My breathing became erratic as the horrifying truth slammed into me like a freight train.
I never had cancer.
My body had been perfectly healthy the entire time.
I dropped the folder onto the floor, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
Garrick hadn't just neglected my post-operative care to collect an insurance payout.
He had entirely fabricated my illness from the very beginning.
He had paid a corrupt surgeon to diagnose me with a terminal disease.
He had convinced me to undergo a double mastectomy that I absolutely did not need.
He had mutilated my healthy body permanently just to validate a five-million-dollar critical illness policy.
"Elena, what is it?" Elias asked, stepping forward with deep concern.
I couldn't speak, so I simply pointed a trembling finger at the papers scattered on the rug.
Elias knelt down, picked up the pathology report, and read it in silence.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as Elias processed the reality of what he was reading.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were devoid of any human emotion.
"Who was the doctor that performed your surgery?" Elias asked, his voice a dangerous whisper.
"Dr. Aris Thorne," I choked out, tears of absolute devastation finally spilling over my cheeks.
"Garrick insisted we use him because he was a prominent member of their church."
Elias stood up slowly, carefully placing the papers back onto the table.
He didn't yell, and he didn't break anything in the room.
His terrifying calmness was entirely worse than rage.
"Garrick and Miriam are in federal custody, which means they are untouchable for now."
"But Dr. Thorne is currently sitting in his private clinic in downtown Dallas."
Elias pulled a sleek black handgun from his shoulder holster and checked the chamber.
"Stay here, Elena."
Before he could turn toward the door, my burner phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.
May you like
I picked it up and saw a text message from an unknown number.
"Your brother is lying to you, Elena, check the signature at the bottom of the surgical authorization form."
