Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Drops
Grant forced his hands to remain relaxed on the arms of his chair.
"Tell the guards to let Dr. Hale through the gates," Grant ordered Daniel calmly.
He heard Daniel walk away, leaving him completely alone with Hannah again.
"You need to hide," Grant whispered urgently to her.
"If Hale sees you hovering around me right now, he will become highly suspicious."
Hannah quickly gathered the empty tea cups onto her silver tray.
"I will slip out through the kitchen and buy the equipment tonight instead of tomorrow," she promised softly.
Grant listened to her light footsteps fade away just as Dr. Hale’s expensive dress shoes clicked onto the terrace.
"Grant, my apologies for the sudden intrusion," Hale said, his voice dripping with forced professional warmth.
"Daniel mentioned a problem with my eye drops," Grant stated flatly.
"Just a minor recall from the pharmaceutical manufacturer, nothing to worry about," the doctor assured him.
Grant felt the familiar cold tip of the glass dropper hover over his right eye.
For five years, he had accepted this exact treatment without a single question.
"Keep your eyes wide open," Hale instructed gently.
The liquid hit Grant's eye, and for the first time, he felt a sharp, agonizing burning sensation deep in his optic nerve.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to show any sign of pain to the man who was supposedly healing him.
"This new batch is a bit stronger to prevent the inflammation from spreading," Hale explained as he treated the left eye.
After the doctor left, Grant sat in the darkness, feeling a strange throbbing pressure building behind his forehead.
Hours later, long after midnight, Grant heard his bedroom door click open.
"It is me," Hannah whispered, her voice trembling slightly in the dark room.
"I bought the ophthalmoscope."
Grant sat up in bed, his eyes still burning fiercely from Hale's afternoon visit.
"Turn off all the lights and close the heavy blinds," Grant commanded.
He felt Hannah move close to him, the faint smell of soap and vanilla accompanying her.
"Look straight ahead, sir," she murmured, clicking on the small medical light.
Grant braced himself, expecting nothing but the usual warm emptiness.
"Oh my god," Hannah gasped, instantly dropping the instrument onto the carpet.
"What is it?" Grant demanded, grabbing her wrist tightly in the dark.
"Your retinas are not destroyed, Mr. Mercer."
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She took a shaky breath that sounded like pure terror.
"They are severely inflamed because someone is deliberately putting a paralytic neurotoxin directly into your eyes."
