Chapter 5 - WHAT ADRIAN STOLE FROM MEDr. Daniel Harrow looked nothing like a monster.
I did not call first.
If I had called, she might have lied.
For most of our lives, Emily and I had been opposites.
I was careful.
She was impulsive.
I saved birthday cards.
She forgot birthdays.
I built companies.
She became a documentary photographer who sometimes disappeared into another country for six weeks because someone had mentioned an interesting fishing village.
But Emily had never betrayed me.
At least, I believed she hadn’t.
She opened the door wearing an oversized sweatshirt.
When she saw the photograph in my hand, every trace of color disappeared from her face.
“Where did you get that?”
“Tell me why you were with Adrian.”
“Vivian—”
“Three years ago. Two days before I lost my baby.”
Emily closed her eyes.
That was enough.
I walked inside.
“Tell me.”
She shut the door.
“You need to sit down.”
“I’m tired of people telling me what I need.”
Her eyes filled.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From Adrian.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Emily walked toward her kitchen counter and removed an envelope from a drawer.
Inside were medical records.
Mine.
I stared at her.
“How did you get these?”
“Adrian asked me to pick up a sealed package from a private fertility clinic.”
“Why you?”
“He said it was a surprise for you. A new specialist.”
She looked ashamed.
“I believed him.”
“What happened?”
“I opened it.”
My breath stopped.
“He had requested copies of your hormone schedules. Prescription details. Injection timing.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
“Why would he need that?”
Emily swallowed.
“Because I think he was interfering with your medication.”
The words did not land at first.
My mind rejected them.
“No.”
“I found emails.”
“No.”
“Vivian.”
“No.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“My miscarriages were medical complications.”
“Maybe.”
“You are suggesting my husband—”
“I’m telling you that I confronted him.”
My hands trembled.
“What did he say?”
“He said I misunderstood everything.”
Emily wiped tears from her face.
“Then he threatened to destroy me if I told you.”
“You stayed silent?”
“I tried telling you.”
“When?”
“The week after you came home from the hospital. You were barely sleeping. Adrian answered your phone. He controlled who saw you.”
Memory returned in fragments.
Curtains closed.
Medication on my bedside table.
Adrian saying visitors exhausted me.
Adrian telling me Emily was traveling.
“I thought you abandoned me.”
“I know.”
Emily began crying.
“He wanted you isolated.”
I sat again.
Anger had become something colder.
“Do you still have the emails?”
“Yes.”
She opened her laptop.
A folder contained screenshots.
Adrian communicating with someone called D. Harrow.
One message chilled me.
She’ll be out of operations for months after this. Get the transfer package ready.
I read it twice.
“What does ‘after this’ mean?”
Emily shook her head.
“I never found out.”
I sent everything to Samuel.
Then I called him.
“I want every medical bill, prescription record, clinic communication, and insurance authorization connected to my pregnancies.”
“Vivian, what happened?”
“I may have spent three years believing my body betrayed me when someone else did.”
Silence.
“I’ll get it.”
A knock sounded at Emily’s door.
We both froze.
Emily looked through the peephole.
“No one.”
Another knock.
I approached carefully.
On the floor outside sat a white box.
No label.
Inside was a single pair of baby shoes.
My knees nearly gave out.
Emily whispered, “Oh my God.”
Beneath the shoes was a note.
SOME GRAVES SHOULD STAY CLOSED.
I called police.
For the next two hours, detectives photographed everything.
They found no usable fingerprints.
By evening, reporters had surrounded Vale House headquarters.
Adrian had gone public.
He claimed I was conducting a “personal vendetta fueled by grief.”
He announced that Celeste and he were “in love.”
Then he accused me of fabricating financial allegations because I could not accept the end of our marriage.
The public split instantly.
Some supported me.
Others called me bitter.
Videos from the runway passed fifty million views.
The kiss became a meme.
My humiliation became entertainment.
Then someone leaked medical information about my miscarriages.
That was when I knew Adrian was terrified.
And terrified people make mistakes.
The mistake came at 11:14 p.m.
Samuel called.
“We found D. Harrow.”
I stood beside my apartment window.
“Who?”
“Dr. Daniel Harrow. Reproductive endocrinologist.”
My stomach tightened.
“He treated me?”
“No.”
“Then why was Adrian communicating with him?”
“That’s the interesting part.”
Samuel paused.
“Harrow lost his medical license two years ago.”
“For what?”
“Manipulating patient medications during an illegal fertility research trial.”
I stopped breathing.
“Samuel.”
“Yes?”
“Find him.”
“We already did.”
“Where?”
“Federal prison.”
A long silence followed.
May you like
Then Samuel said the sentence that changed the direction of the entire case.
“He’s willing to talk to you.”
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