Chapter 4 - The Eighth Doctor
Marlo ran toward the voice.
Nico caught her.
“Stop.”
“That was her.”
“Your mother is dead.”
“I know what I heard.”
Emergency lights flickered on.
The corridor was empty.
Security footage showed nobody outside Room 3107.
The voice had come through a hidden speaker.
Someone wanted Marlo frightened.
It worked.
But fear had changed.
Before, it told her to hide.
Now it made her angry.
They returned to Cassian's suite.
Dr. Pell was waiting.
Marlo threw the photograph onto the table.
“You knew my mother.”
Pell's face betrayed him.
Cassian closed the door.
“Start talking.”
Pell sat down.
“Maria worked for your father.”
“We know.”
“She came to me because she suspected medication tampering.”
Marlo pointed to the note.
“What does ‘ask about eight’ mean?”
Pell closed his eyes.
“There weren't seven physicians treating your father.”
Cassian stared.
“There were eight.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Julian Vale.”
Nico immediately searched the name.
Nothing.
Pell continued.
“Vale specialized in pharmacology. After your father died, every record of his employment disappeared.”
“People don't disappear from databases by accident,” Nico said.
“No.”
Marlo looked at Pell.
“And my mother?”
“She had evidence against him.”
“What evidence?”
“A prescription ledger.”
Cassian leaned forward.
“Where?”
“I never knew.”
Marlo remembered the cardboard box.
The uniform.
She rushed back to it and examined the seams.
One hem felt unusually stiff.
She tore it open.
A tiny key fell out.
Not brass.
Steel.
Stamped with two numbers.
8-17.
Nico looked at Cassian.
“Locker.”
“Where?”
Pell answered.
“The old employee medical wing.”
They descended into a portion of the casino abandoned during renovations.
Locker 817 remained behind a false wall.
Marlo's key opened it.
Inside was a ledger.
Names.
Dates.
Medications.
Dosages.
Cassian's father appeared repeatedly.
Then Maria.
Marlo's hands shook.
The final entry beside her mother's name contained two words.
DIGOXIN ALTERATION.
Her mother had not accidentally mixed tea and medicine.
Someone had changed her prescription.
Marlo covered her mouth.
Cassian stood beside her without touching her.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You let me believe she killed herself by being careless.”
“I didn't know how.”
“You knew enough.”
“Yes.”
That answer stopped her.
No excuse.
No defense.
Just guilt.
Nico turned another page.
“Cassian.”
At the bottom was a new entry.
Dated six days ago.
C. VEY.
Same handwriting.
Same dosage pattern.
Thirteen years later, someone had restarted the method.
Then Marlo noticed another line beneath Cassian's name.
M. BELL.
May you like
Her own name.
And beside it was tomorrow's date.
