Chapter 2 - THE DOCTOR WITHOUT A NAME
Nobody slept that night.
Alejandro ordered the estate gates locked from the inside and outside.
No employee was permitted to leave until police and independent investigators arrived.
No phone belonging to Vivian, Mateo, or the senior household staff was allowed to be wiped, destroyed, or removed.
He also did something Vivian did not expect.
He called a law firm that had never worked for the Castillo family.
For three years, every legal question tied to Elena's disappearance had gone through the same network of attorneys, investigators, and advisers.
That network suddenly looked contaminated.
Alejandro wanted strangers.
People with no loyalty to his money.
People Vivian had never met.
Elena sat in the old library wrapped in a blanket while a female emergency physician examined the bruises on her wrists.
Alejandro remained outside the doorway.
He wanted to be close enough that she could see him.
He also wanted to be far enough that she never felt trapped by him.
That balance was agony.
Every instinct told him to kneel beside her and hold her until the last three years disappeared.
But Elena watched every movement in the room like someone calculating exits.
He had to accept that love did not give him the right to rush her fear.
The doctor emerged after forty minutes.
Her name was Dr. Karen Holt.
She had been brought from a hospital across town by Alejandro's new attorney.
"She is dehydrated, underweight, and anemic," Dr. Holt said.
Alejandro's hands curled into fists.
"What about the bruises?"
"Some are recent."
"And the older ones?"
"I found scar tissue around both wrists, one ankle, and the left side of her neck."
Alejandro looked toward the room.
"From restraints?"
Dr. Holt did not answer immediately.
That hesitation was worse than confirmation.
"Possibly."
Alejandro closed his eyes.
"What about the medication?"
Dr. Holt held up one of the unlabeled bottles recovered from the red room.
"I can't identify tablets by appearance alone."
"Send them to a lab."
"Already arranged."
"How fast?"
"Fast enough."
Alejandro nodded.
Dr. Holt studied him.
"She also has memory gaps."
He looked at her sharply.
"She told you?"
"She doesn't remember entire weeks."
Alejandro felt sick.
"Could medication cause that?"
"Some medications can impair memory, especially when combined or misused."
"Could somebody intentionally make a person confused enough to doubt reality?"
Dr. Holt's expression tightened.
"Yes."
Alejandro looked toward Vivian, who was seated in the formal dining room under guard.
"Then somebody did."
Dr. Holt touched his arm lightly.
Before Alejandro returned to Elena, Dr. Holt asked to see the household medical records Vivian claimed existed.
There were three binders.
All labeled MARIA SANTOS.
All meticulously organized.
The precision disturbed Holt more than disorder would have.
Blood pressure.
Weight.
Sleep hours.
Medication responses.
Behavioral notes.
Punishment was never called punishment.
It was called behavioral consequence.
Isolation was called low-stimulation recovery.
Restraint was called protective stabilization.
Refusal to obey was called acute oppositional behavior.
Language had been scrubbed until cruelty looked clinical.
Holt turned pages with growing anger.
"These are designed to survive casual review."
Alejandro looked at her.
"Meaning?"
"If a nurse, inspector, or visiting physician saw only one page, the terminology could look legitimate."
"But together?"
"Together they show coercive control dressed as treatment."
One note described Elena refusing dinner after being shown a photograph of Alejandro with another woman.
The response column read: Patient continues romantic fixation despite evidence.
Another described Elena insisting she owned the house.
The note read: Grandiose delusion regarding property and status.
Alejandro felt sick.
Every true statement Elena made had been recorded as proof she was ill.
"Who wrote these?"
Holt pointed to initials.
M.V.
Others carried V.M.
Vivian Moretti.
Vivian had not merely repeated a doctor's conclusions.
She had participated in creating the medical fiction.
Alejandro photographed every page before police arrived, then stopped himself and handed his phone to Claire.
"Make sure this is preserved correctly."
He had already learned one lesson that night.
Anger could not be allowed to damage proof.
"Do not assume every answer will come back at once."
Alejandro almost laughed.
He had spent three years living without answers.
Now there were too many.
"I need to know what happened to her."
"So does she."
That stopped him.
Dr. Holt continued.
"Right now, your wife is not only trying to understand what other people did."
"She is trying to understand which parts of her own memory she can trust."
Alejandro looked through the doorway.
Elena was staring at the rain.
"Can I talk to her?"
"Ask her."
He approached slowly.
"Elena?"
She looked at him.
"Would it be all right if I came in?"
Her eyes moved toward Dr. Holt.
Then she nodded.
Alejandro entered and sat in a chair across from her rather than beside her.
For a long time, neither spoke.
The room had once been where they drank coffee on Sunday mornings.
Elena had always tucked one leg beneath her while reading.
Now both feet stayed flat on the floor.
Ready to run.
"You said there was a doctor," Alejandro began.
Elena's fingers tightened around the blanket.
"Yes."
"Do you know his name?"
"No."
"Can you describe him?"
She closed her eyes.
"Older."
"How old?"
"Maybe sixty."
"Hair?"
"Gray."
"Accent?"
"American, I think."
She winced.
"I'm sorry."
Alejandro leaned forward and then stopped himself.
"You never have to apologize for not remembering."
Elena looked at him as if the sentence were unfamiliar.
"Vivian hated when I forgot instructions."
Alejandro swallowed his anger.
"What instructions?"
"Cleaning schedules."
"What else?"
"Things I was allowed to say."
He went still.
"Allowed to say to whom?"
"People who came to the house."
Alejandro's pulse quickened.
"Visitors saw you?"
Elena nodded.
"Sometimes."
"Did they know who you were?"
"No."
She looked down at the gray uniform.
"I was Maria."
Alejandro stared at her.
"Maria?"
"Vivian said Elena Castillo was dead."
The words were spoken so softly they were almost lost beneath the rain.
"She said I had no right to use a dead woman's name."
Alejandro gripped the arms of his chair.
"Who believed you were Maria?"
"Everyone new."
"And the old staff?"
Elena's eyes filled.
"They were told not to speak to me."
"Why didn't someone come to me?"
Her voice changed.
"Some tried."
Alejandro straightened.
"Who?"
"I don't remember all their names."
"Try."
Elena squeezed her eyes shut.
"Rosa."
Alejandro knew the name.
Rosa Alvarez had been Elena's personal housekeeper for six years.
She disappeared from the estate two months after Elena vanished.
Vivian told him Rosa had returned to Mexico to care for her mother.
Alejandro had sent money to an address Vivian provided.
"What happened to Rosa?"
Elena began shaking.
Dr. Holt stepped closer.
"You can stop."
Elena shook her head.
"No."
Her breathing became shallow.
"Rosa saw me in the kitchen."
Alejandro waited.
"She screamed my name."
Elena's eyes opened.
"She dropped a plate."
"Then what happened?"
"Vivian took her upstairs."
"And?"
"I never saw her again."
Alejandro looked toward the door.
"Mateo."
The former security chief was being held in a small office nearby.
A guard brought him in.
Mateo looked exhausted.
Alejandro did not offer him a chair.
"Where is Rosa Alvarez?"
Mateo stared at the floor.
"I don't know."
"Wrong answer."
"I swear."
"She vanished from my home after seeing Elena alive."
Mateo's face changed.
"I was told Rosa stole jewelry."
"By whom?"
He looked toward the dining room.
"Vivian."
Alejandro stood.
"You believed her every time."
Mateo's jaw tightened.
"I believed documents."
"Documents can be forged."
"I know that now."
Alejandro stepped closer.
"What happened to Rosa?"
Mateo took a breath.
"My team drove her to the airport."
"Which terminal?"
Mateo looked away.
Alejandro saw it.
"She never went to the airport."
Mateo shook his head.
"I didn't say that."
"Then say where you took her."
"A private clinic outside the city."
Elena made a strangled sound.
Alejandro looked at Mateo as if seeing a stranger.
"Why?"
"Vivian had papers saying Rosa was having a psychiatric crisis."
"Signed by who?"
"A doctor."
"Name."
Mateo hesitated.
"Dr. Malcolm Voss."
Elena's cup slipped from her hand.
Water spread across the table.
"That's him."
Everyone turned toward her.
"The doctor?"
Elena nodded violently.
"Voss."
Her breathing accelerated.
"He used to tell me I was imagining you."
Alejandro felt rage rise through him so quickly that his hands began to shake.
"Where is this clinic?"
Mateo gave him an address.
Alejandro handed it to his new attorney, Claire Brennan.
"Send investigators now."
Claire stepped into the hallway and began making calls.
Vivian's voice floated from the dining room.
"You're wasting your time."
Alejandro walked toward her.
"Why?"
She lifted her chin.
"Because the clinic closed eighteen months ago."
Alejandro stopped.
"How do you know that?"
Vivian realized her mistake.
It lasted less than a second.
Then she smiled.
"I read the news."
Alejandro moved closer.
"You remember the closing date of a private psychiatric clinic you claim you never used?"
Vivian's smile thinned.
"Coincidence."
Claire returned twenty minutes later.
Her expression was grim.
"The property is abandoned."
"Records?"
"Public records show the clinic was dissolved after an investigation into licensing violations."
"Voss?"
"Medical license suspended."
"Where is he?"
Claire looked at Elena before answering.
"Officially, nobody knows."
Alejandro felt the old frustration return.
Another missing person.
Another trail designed to disappear.
Then Claire added,
"But we found something else."
She held out a tablet.
"The clinic was owned through a shell company called Meridian Health Services."
Alejandro looked at the corporate registration.
The name meant nothing.
Then he saw the mailing address.
It was the same address used by one of his family's investment offices.
"Who authorized payments to Meridian?"
Claire swiped to the next document.
Alejandro saw his own name.
His own electronic signature.
His own corporate seal.
Payments had been made monthly for thirty-one months.
Millions of dollars.
His money had financed the clinic connected to Elena's captivity.
"I never approved this."
Claire nodded.
"I believe you."
Vivian laughed again.
"Will a judge?"
Alejandro ignored her.
"Trace every payment."
Claire looked at him carefully.
"There is more."
She showed him another transfer.
The receiving account was not owned by the clinic.
It belonged to a private trust.
The trust beneficiary was listed under initials only.
E.C.
Alejandro's throat tightened.
"Elena Castillo?"
Claire shook her head.
"Maybe."
Elena stared at the screen.
"I never had a trust."
Claire opened one more page.
"Then somebody created one in your name."
The trust had received eleven million dollars.
Most of it was gone.
The final transaction had happened only six days earlier.
The money had been moved to an account in Zurich.
The transfer memo contained three words.
FINAL DISCHARGE PAYMENT.
Elena went pale.
Alejandro looked at Vivian.
"Discharge from what?"
Vivian said nothing.
Claire's phone rang.
She answered and listened.
Her expression changed.
"What is it?" Alejandro asked.
Claire lowered the phone.
"My investigator found the abandoned clinic's admission registry."
"And?"
"Rosa Alvarez was admitted three years ago."
Elena covered her mouth.
Alejandro waited for the rest.
May you like
Claire looked directly at him.
"So was Elena Castillo."
