Chapter 3 - THE DOCTOR WHO WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SEE HIM
Dante arranged an appointment at a hospital outside Victor's network.
He used a different name for the initial consultation.
Not to deceive the medical team about his history, which he provided accurately, but to keep the appointment from appearing on the Moretti household schedule.
The specialist was Dr. Naomi Chen, a neurosurgeon with experience treating complex post-traumatic injuries.
She reviewed his records.
Then examined the back of his neck.
Her expression changed.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Yes?”
“Who told you this was retained shrapnel?”
Dante looked at her.
“Several doctors.”
“Which doctors?”
He named Mercer.
Victor's preferred specialists.
The private clinic where he'd received follow-up care.
Dr. Chen frowned.
“I'd like to review the original surgical reports.”
Dante nodded.
“Of course.”
She examined the raised area again.
Then said:
“I can't identify this by touch alone. We need imaging and a careful review before drawing conclusions.”
Dante appreciated her caution.
For three years, he'd been given confident answers that never seemed to explain anything.
Now someone was willing to admit uncertainty.
The imaging revealed a small manufactured object near the upper neck.
It was not a typical piece of irregular shrapnel.
Its precise purpose remained unclear.
Dr. Chen studied the images.
“There's something important here.”
Dante leaned forward.
“What?”
“This appears to have a defined casing.”
His jaw tightened.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we should not assume it's an accidental fragment from the explosion.”
Silence.
Then Dante asked:
“Could someone have put it there?”
Dr. Chen looked at him carefully.
“That's one possibility. But we need the operative history and specialist evaluation before concluding how or when it got there.”
Dante nodded.
Then asked the question he'd been afraid to say aloud.
“Could it explain my symptoms?”
“Possibly some local symptoms, depending on its position. Your headaches and memory problems need a separate neurological and medication review. We shouldn't attribute everything to this object without evidence.”
Dante stared at the images.
For the first time, the mystery was becoming real.
Back at the mansion, Victor noticed Dante had missed his usual afternoon medication.
He entered the library.
“Dante.”
Dante looked up.
“Yes?”
“You haven't taken your tablets.”
“I know.”
Victor frowned.
“You need them.”
“Who says?”
Victor stared.
“Your doctors.”
Dante closed his book.
“Which doctors?”
Silence.
Victor's expression hardened.
“What's gotten into you?”
Dante looked directly at him.
“A little girl asked me a question.”
Victor went still.
May you like
Dante continued.
“And now I'm asking questions too.”
