Chapter 3 - The Scar That Shouldn’t Exist
Sebastian sent a car for Clare before dawn.
She refused to leave Owen alone, so Owen came too.
The boy slept during most of the drive, curled against the leather seat with his backpack under his head.
When the gates opened, Clare felt as if she were entering another country.
Sebastian was waiting in the medical suite.
He had changed clothes but clearly had not slept.
Neither had Carlo.
Clare noticed him immediately.
Carlo stood near the doorway with a coffee he wasn’t drinking.
Sebastian looked at Owen.
“This is your son?”
“Owen.”
The boy rubbed his eyes.
“You’re the scary guy?”
Clare closed her eyes.
“Owen.”
Sebastian stared at him for two seconds.
Then laughed.
It was the first genuine laugh Clare had heard from him.
“Apparently.”
Owen looked at the wheelchair.
“Does it go fast?”
“Owen.”
“What?”
Sebastian said, “Fast enough.”
For a moment, the room felt almost normal.
Then Clare showed Sebastian the messages.
The humor vanished.
Sebastian read them twice.
“Adrian.”
His security chief entered.
“Move Ms. Bennett and her son into the east guest wing.”
Clare shook her head.
“I’m not staying here.”
“Someone photographed you leaving my property.”
“I have work.”
“You’re not going to work.”
“You don’t control me.”
“No. But whoever sent this message is waiting for you to return to your routine.”
She hated that he was right.
Sebastian turned to Carlo.
“Get the hospital records.”
Carlo stiffened.
“Twenty-year-old files might take time.”
“You’ve had twenty years.”
The words landed strangely.
Clare saw Carlo’s jaw tighten.
Sebastian saw it too.
“Something you want to tell me?”
“No.”
“You’re becoming bad at lying.”
Carlo met his eyes.
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
Three hours later, Adrian returned with a locked archive box.
The original hospital records contained surgical notes, imaging films, medication logs, and physician signatures.
Clare spread everything across a long table.
She compared the documented incision with Sebastian’s scar.
It didn’t fit.
She checked again.
“No.”
Sebastian watched.
“What?”
“This operation says the incision ended here.”
She pointed.
“Your scar continues almost four inches farther.”
Carlo stepped forward.
“Could’ve been extended during complications.”
“Then it should be documented.”
Sebastian asked, “Is it?”
“No.”
Clare held an old X-ray against the light.
Something else was wrong.
The image showed no object beneath the lower scar.
Yet Clare had clearly felt one.
“There should be imaging from after surgery.”
Carlo handed her another film.
Clare examined it.
Then another.
Her expression changed.
“These aren’t originals.”
Sebastian’s voice lowered.
“How can you tell?”
“The identifiers.”
She pointed at the corner.
“Same machine code. Same calibration pattern. But supposedly taken years apart at different hospitals.”
Carlo went pale again.
Sebastian turned slowly toward him.
“Carlo.”
“I don’t know anything about radiology.”
“But you know something.”
Carlo said nothing.
Owen entered carrying a plate of toast.
“Mom?”
Clare immediately softened.
“Hey.”
“A lady said I could eat anything in the kitchen.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“There were twelve kinds of cereal.”
Sebastian said, “There are thirteen.”
Owen looked impressed.
Clare almost smiled.
Then she noticed something tucked beneath the plate.
A folded piece of paper.
“Owen, where did you get that?”
“It was outside the room.”
Clare opened it.
Three words.
STOP DIGGING, CLARE.
Sebastian read it over her shoulder.
His expression became ice.
Someone had entered the most secure wing of his mansion.
Someone had gotten close enough to Clare’s son to leave a message.
And only a handful of people had access.
Sebastian looked toward Carlo.
Carlo stared back.
For the first time, Clare understood the real danger.
The person protecting Sebastian and the person who had betrayed him might belong to the same trusted circle.
Sebastian reached for his phone.
“Lock the gates.”
Carlo’s eyes widened.
Sebastian continued.
May you like
“No one leaves this house.”
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