Chapter 4 - The Shadows Return
Grant stood frozen as the doctor's twisted, handwritten confession echoed in his mind.
Hale had not just blinded him out of mafia loyalty or greed.
The doctor had been secretly obsessed with Caroline, and this was his sick, silent revenge.
"Take that photograph and the chemical vial and lock them in the safe behind the library bookshelf," Grant ordered.
"The code is zero-four-one-seven."
"That is my job now, sir," Hannah replied, her tone shifting from a scared maid to a fierce ally.
For the next three days, Grant completely stopped taking the medicated drops.
He replaced them with simple saline solution that Hannah secretly purchased from the local pharmacy.
The withdrawal process was absolute agony for him.
Fierce migraines ripped through his skull, and his eyes watered constantly as the optic nerves began to wake up.
On the morning of the fourth day, Grant was sitting by the terrace window when something miraculous happened.
He did not just feel the warmth of the sun on his face.
He actually saw a faint, blurry gray rectangle where the massive glass window was supposed to be.
"Hannah," Grant called out, his voice shaking with an emotion he had buried five years ago.
She hurried into the room, setting a stack of fresh towels on the table.
"I can see the shadow of the window," Grant told her, turning his face toward her.
He could barely make out a dark, slender silhouette standing against the light.
"It is working," Hannah whispered, tears of relief clearly audible in her voice.
Grant closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensory input.
"Tell me about your missing husband, Hannah," he said suddenly, needing to distract himself from the pain.
"Arthur was a good man, but he got involved with dangerous loan sharks to pay for my medical school," she explained sadly.
"When did he disappear?"
"Five years ago, on the exact same night as the explosion at Pier 17."
Grant’s eyes snapped open, fighting through the blurry haze to look at her silhouette.
"What was he doing at the pier?"
"He told me he was hired to load some crates onto a private yacht to clear our debt."
Grant felt a cold dread pool in his stomach.
"Arthur did not load crates that night, Hannah."
May you like
Grant leaned forward, the blurry world around him spinning slightly.
"My men caught a dockworker matching Arthur's description wiring the bomb under my family's car, but he escaped before the blast."
