Chapter 4 - THE DOCTOR'S DEMISE
At exactly 10:00 AM, the heavy front doors of the mansion creaked open.
Dr. Malcolm Reeves walked in carrying his silver medical bag, his expression arrogant and full of self-importance as usual. He wore a tailored suit, looking every bit the wealthy, untouchable specialist.
"Ah, Mrs. Bennett," Reeves called out patronizingly as he walked into the main hall. "Where are the boys? I need to administer their bi-weekly neurological injections immediately."
"They are in the grand study, Doctor," I said, stepping out from the shadows of the archway.
Reeves paused, sneering down at me. "You're still here? I thought Nathan would have fired you by now for your incompetence."
"Mr. Coleman is currently in a meeting with his financial team," I said smoothly, gesturing toward the study doors. "He asked me to assist you with the boys' examination."
Reeves scoffed, pushing past me into the study.
The room was dimly lit. Jacob and Jonah were sitting on the couch, looking weak, holding their toy medical kits.
Reeves set his leather bag on the coffee table, pulling out two pre-filled syringes containing a cloudy, yellow fluid.
"Alright, boys," Reeves said with a fake, sickeningly sweet smile. "Time for your medicine. This will make you feel nice and sleepy."
"What is in those syringes, Dr. Reeves?" I asked, stepping up right behind him.
Reeves turned around, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "It is a proprietary neuro-peptide compound, nanny. Not that your uneducated brain would understand a single word of pharmacology."
"Try me," I said calmly. "Is it thallium nitrate, or did you mix it with organophosphate solvents to speed up their respiratory failure?"
Reeves went completely rigid. The color drained from his face like water down a drain.
"What... what did you just say?" he stammered, his arrogant posture instantly collapsing.
"I said," I repeated, stepping closer, "you've been poisoning these children for eighteen months under the orders of Julian Vance."
"You're insane!" Reeves yelled, clutching his bag and stepping toward the exit. "This is slander! I am a respected physician! I will have you arrested!"
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He pulled open the heavy study door—only to run face-first into a wall of solid steel.
Nathan stood in the threshold, flanked by four massive, armed security guards. Behind them stood Julian Vance, Nathan’s brother-in-law, whose wrists were already bound in heavy silver handcuffs.
