Some are not.
One report claims Alejandro has shown “no meaningful motor response below the waist” for three years.
False.
Another says he suffers from “cognitive instability and delusional memory episodes related to the crash.”
False.
A third recommends full transfer of trust eligibility to Damian DeVega.
Signed by Dr. Lionel Graves.
You recognize the name.
He is the doctor who visits Alejandro once a month, checks his reflexes for three minutes, and tells Doña Isabella there is “no change.”
You photograph everything.
Then a drawer opens behind you.
You spin around.
Mr. Sterling stands in the doorway.
For one terrible second, neither of you speaks.
Then he closes the door behind him.
“You should not be here,” he says.
You clutch the phone behind your back.
“I’m sorry.”
“No,” he says. “You’re not.”
Your throat tightens.
He steps forward.
“I warned you not to become attached.”
“You knew,” you whisper.
His face flickers.
“Knew what?”
“That they were lying about Alejandro.”
Mr. Sterling looks toward the hallway.
When he speaks again, his voice is lower.
“I knew this family prefers convenient truths.”
“Then help us.”
He lets out a tired breath.
“You are a child.”
“I’m seventeen.”
