Chapter 7: The Confession in the Clinic
Dr. Sterling turned on his heel and walked briskly down the hallway toward his private office, clearly expecting me to follow like a chastised patient. I didn't hesitate. I pushed past the receptionist, who stammered a warning into her desk phone, and stepped into the office just as Sterling locked the heavy mahogany door behind us. Marcus slipped in right behind me, planting his broad shoulders against the wood to ensure the lock wouldn't matter.
"You're committing a felony, Arthur," Sterling said, walking behind his large mahogany desk. He didn't sound panicked; he sounded like a man accustomed to buying his way out of institutional liability. "If you make a scene here, Brenda will have you committed under the emergency probate clause before the sun sets. The judge signed the temporary guardianship orders yesterday morning."
"The guardianship is invalid because my daughter is legally and physically alive in my home," I stepped closer, placing both palms flat on his desk and leaning into his personal space. "You signed a false death certificate for a twenty-eight-year-old woman who had a pulse. That's not malpractice, Sterling. That's conspiracy to commit murder."
Sterling stared at me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling beneath his crisp white coat. He let out a dry, humorless laugh and reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a slim, encrypted flash drive and a signed ledger page. He tossed them onto the blotter between us.
"Brenda runs the foundation, Arthur. She controls the board, she controls the political donations, and she controls the county prosecutor," Sterling said, his voice dropping to a smooth, venomous hiss. "I was just executing a medical directive signed by your wife before she passed away last year. A directive that stated the family assets must be consolidated under the foundation in the event of a catastrophic health failure by any direct heir."
"My wife never signed that," I said, my voice shaking with restrained fury. "Evelyn loved Clara more than her own life. She would never sign away her daughter's future."
"Ask Maya," Sterling replied, leaning back in his leather chair with a smug smile. "She signed as the witness. She knew exactly what was in the red leather binder. Why do you think she ran away from the cemetery with it this morning? She's trying to cut her own deal with Brenda."
May you like
Marcus stepped forward from the door, his phone recording every word on the screen. "That's an audio confession to falsifying medical records, Doctor. I'd suggest you pack your bags before the state medical board gets this file."
Sterling's face finally lost its arrogant composure. His eyes darted from Marcus's phone to the open door as I reached across the desk, snatched the ledger page, and tucked it safely inside my jacket.
