Chapter 5 - The Other Betrayal
I drove to Megan Ruiz’s apartment before midnight.
Robert came.
So did an officer.
Jason begged to come.
I told him no.
Chloe screamed that we were destroying the family.
Mom said nothing.
That silence followed me all the way across town.
Megan opened the door in sweatpants and a Johns Hopkins hoodie.
She looked exhausted.
The moment she saw me, her face softened.
“You look like him.”
I almost broke.
“Please don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. I just—”
My throat closed.
I swallowed.
“Tell me everything.”
She let us in.
Her kitchen smelled like coffee.
Folders covered the table.
She had kept records.
Not because she expected anyone to care.
Because she was afraid she would need proof.
“I started with your dad six months before he died.”
I nodded.
“He was weak, but sharp. Funny. Stubborn.”
That sounded like Dad.
Megan continued.
“One morning I found his weekly organizer changed.”
“How?”
“Different tablets in two slots.”
“What were they?”
“Small white pills. I photographed them.”
She pulled out her phone.
Found the image.
My breath stopped.
Same shape as Jason’s medication.
Round.
White.
Score line.
Robert zoomed in.
“Prescription number?”
A label sat blurred in the background.
Megan had photographed the whole counter.
Robert sharpened it enough to read part of the number.
He typed into his notes.
“Why did you suspect Linda?”
“I saw Chloe at the organizer.”
My chest tightened.
“Chloe?”
“She said Linda told her the doctor changed the dose.”
“What did you do?”
“I called the doctor.”
“And?”
“No change.”
I sat down.
Megan’s eyes filled.
“I confronted Linda.”
“What did she say?”
“That I was confused.”
Of course.
“She told me Thomas had become difficult and agitated. That medication was being adjusted.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“I removed the pills.”
“And?”
“The next day your dad was more alert.”
My fingers tightened around the table.
“How much more?”
“He asked for Robert’s number.”
I looked at him.
Robert’s face went still.
Megan continued.
“He said he needed to change something before Linda found out.”
“The house.”
“Maybe.”
“Then what?”
“Linda fired me that afternoon.”
Robert said, “Official reason?”
“Boundary violation.”
I laughed bitterly.
Megan looked at me.
“I tried calling you.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“Thomas gave me your number.”
“I never got anything.”
“How many times?”
“Four.”
Jason again.
Maybe.
Or Mom.
Everyone had been building walls around me while telling me I had left.
Megan opened another folder.
“After I was fired, Thomas texted me once.”
She printed it.
THANK YOU. H WILL UNDERSTAND LATER.
My vision blurred.
“H.”
“Hannah,” Robert said.
I touched Dad’s words.
“Did he say anything else?”
“No.”
Megan hesitated.
“What?”
“One thing.”
“What?”
“On my last day, he asked whether sedatives could make someone look mentally confused.”
Robert and I looked at each other.
“Why?”
“I asked him.”
“And?”
“He said, ‘Because someone is trying to make me sign like I’m already gone.’”
My breath caught.
Robert’s phone rang.
His investigator.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked at me.
“We traced the prescription number from Megan’s photo.”
I knew before he said it.
Jason Carter.
My stomach dropped.
“He says his bottle disappeared,” I whispered.
Robert nodded.
“Could be true.”
“Could be.”
Megan frowned.
“Who is Jason?”
“My boyfriend.”
She looked at me with pity.
I hated it.
My phone buzzed.
Jason.
I ignored it.
Again.
Again.
Then a voicemail.
I played it.
“Hannah, please. Chloe just told me something. Your dad knew about the pills. He told her to keep switching them.”
I stared at the phone.
Megan shook her head.
“No.”
Jason continued.
“She says he was trying to catch your mother.”
Robert leaned closer.
Then Jason said:
“And Hannah—there’s something else. Chloe says your father left another ledger. Linda took it before Robert came.”
A crash sounded in the background.
Jason shouted.
The voicemail ended.
I called back.
No answer.
Then Chloe called.
She was crying.
“Hannah.”
“What happened?”
“Jason found Mom’s storage key.”
“So?”
“He went after her.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
A pause.
Then Chloe whispered:
May you like
“Mom took Dad’s evidence.”
CUT.
