Court Papers in the Locked Drawer of a Community Doctor
“The boy is a high school dropout, Rachel, he is a liar.”
“He was your liar first,” I said.
He did not answer, his fingers already turning to the third document in the folder.
It was the printout of the email exchange between David and George, the real estate developer.
The letters were dated three weeks ago, outlining the secret fifty thousand dollar cash kickback David would receive once my signature was bypassed.
The final page was the emergency guardianship petition drafted by Arthur Sterling, the lawyer whose black business card I had found in David’s winter coat.
David stared at his own signature on the petition, his mouth opening slightly but no sound coming out.
“This is the cognitive decline you wanted to show the court,” I said, pointing to the fake medical logs he had kept in his study.
“I have duplicates of all of this, David.”
“Rachel,” he began, his voice cracking as he tried to regain his reassuring tone.
“You don’t understand the pressure I have been under.”
“I understand four hundred thousand dollars,” I said.
