บททั้งหมดของ The Bride They Buried Alive : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

I didn't open the door. Not immediately. I stood there and waited. Three seconds. Four. I counted without meaning to, which is a strange thing to do. The handle was cold. The whole room was, actually... that kind of cold that comes in after midnight when you stop moving. Then I opened it. Damien was in his wheelchair in the corridor. No expression. No urgency. Just that stillness he had, like he'd made some decision about patience a long time ago and it had just become how he existed. "Liora," he said again. Quieter. I leaned against the doorframe. "Most people call me Lila." "I know." "Then why didn't you?" He looked at me for a moment. "Because Lila is the one who folds cardigans and looks at the floor." A pause. "Didn't think she'd be up." I pressed my shoulder into the doorframe. Said nothing. I'm not sure I had anything to say. He tilted his head. "The bottle." "I don't know what you're talking about." "Yes you do." Not a challenge. Just how he said

I read the note three times. Then I folded it back exactly the way it had come and held it in my closed fist for a long moment. Don't trust the doctor. Four words. No explanation. No context. Just the warning and his handwriting and the sound of wheels already gone down the corridor. I sat on the edge of the bed and thought about what I knew. Or what I thought I knew. Not the same thing. Damien had left the bottle deliberately. Tested me across four days without me realising it. Come to my room at midnight and said enough to make me act but not enough to make me certain. And now this. Either he was protecting me. Or he was the one who needed me not to send that sample. I sat with both for a long time. They didn't cancel each other out. A man could be doing both at once — protecting me from one thing while steering me toward something else entirely. That was the problem with Damien. Every move had at least two meanings. I hadn't found one yet that didn't. I put the not

I didn't go straight to bed. I sat in the dining room until the candles burned down to nothing and the staff finally came to clear the table around me without a word. Then I went upstairs, changed, and lay on top of the covers staring at the ceiling the way I had every night since I arrived. Sleep in this house felt like something that happened to other people. In the morning Victor was already in the hallway when I came down. Not in the dining room. Not in his study. In the hallway, standing near the bottom of the stairs with his phone in his hand, like he had been waiting for the sound of my door. "Good morning." He smiled. "I was just about to send someone up. There's someone I'd like you to meet." I came down the last three steps slowly. "Oh?" "An old friend of the family. He'll be joining us for lunch." Victor slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. "He knew Damien's parents. Before the accident. I thought it might be good for Damien. To reconnect with people who remember

The lab was called Meridian Diagnostics. I found it on the second search, buried beneath the larger referral networks. Independent. Private. No institutional affiliations listed on their website. A contact form and a postal address in the city and a line at the bottom of the page that said all submissions were handled under strict confidentiality. I didn't use the contact form. I found the name of the lead analyst instead. A woman. Dr. Reeves. She had published three papers in the last four years under her own name, which meant she had a professional reputation separate from the lab. Someone with a reputation was someone who had something to protect that wasn't just a paycheck. I spent twenty minutes on that decision alone. Whether the reputation made her safer or more exposed. Whether someone with published work was easier to find, easier to pressure. I went back and forth on it twice before I decided that the alternative a lab with no named personnel, no public record... was

Thursday came faster than I expected. Victor announced it at dinner Wednesday evening... a meeting in the city, an associate he needed to see, he would take the car at nine. He said it casually, the way he announced everything. Like the timing was incidental. Good. I could go Thursday. What I didn't think about until later that night was that Victor going to the city on Thursday and me going to the city on Thursday were not the same thing. They were the same day. Possibly the same roads. I lay in the dark and rearranged the plan. The pharmacy was on the east side. Victor's usual associate was in the financial district, which I knew from a conversation I had overheard three days ago. Different parts of the city. Different directions from the estate. Probably fine. I was still awake at one in the morning. I ran through the route twice. A third time. The third time didn't make it more certain. It just gave me something to do with the hours. At breakfast Damien was already at the t