Chapter 3 - The Lab Results
The next forty-eight hours were a blur of hospital lights, social workers, and horrifying revelations.
I sat in a hard plastic chair in the pediatric ward while a team of doctors ran every conceivable test on Emma. She was hooked up to heart monitors and IV fluids. She was exhausted, but finally safe, sleeping deeply clutching her stuffed bear.
Detective Ramirez found me in the hallway just after midnight. She was holding a thick manila folder, looking deeply disturbed.
"We got the rush toxicology reports back from the lab," Ramirez said quietly, taking a seat next to me. "And we pulled your husband's financial records. David lost his job at the pharmaceutical firm eight months ago."
I stared at her, stunned. "Eight months? He's been leaving for work every single morning."
"He was leaving to meet with a black-market medical syndicate," Ramirez explained grimly. "The liquid in the amber bottle is an experimental, highly illegal synthetic neuro-suppressant. It was designed for military applications to artificially lower the heart rate and oxygen consumption of soldiers in extreme survival situations. But it was incredibly unstable. It caused permanent neurological damage in adults."
My stomach violently rebelled. I pressed my hand against my mouth to stop from being sick.
"David was being paid hundreds of thousands of dollars in offshore crypto accounts to run pediatric human trials," Ramirez said, her voice dropping to a disgusted whisper. "He was dosing your daughter. He was forcing her underwater, timing her hypoxia levels, and sending the biometric data back to his buyers. The powder you found on the towel was a chemical neutralizing agent he used to wipe the excess off her skin so she wouldn't absorb a lethal dose."
He had turned our home into a laboratory. He had turned his own daughter into a lab rat for money.
"Is she..." I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "Is my baby going to be okay?"
"The doctors said you caught it just in time," Ramirez assured me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "A few more weeks of that exposure, and her heart would have given out. But she will make a full physical recovery."
Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by a burning, terrifying question.
May you like
"Where is he?" I asked.
Ramirez looked away, her jaw tightening. "His lawyers are high-powered. They argued the evidence was circumstantial and that the substance wasn't a scheduled narcotic. The judge granted him bail this morning. We have units looking for him, but right now... David is in the wind."
