Chapter 4 - The Name Beneath the Wallpaper
The new doctor arrived the next afternoon.
Dr. Amelia Ross was a maternal health specialist from a clinic Isabella had chosen herself. Adrian had kept his promise, at least in part.
Margaret remained in the room during the examination.
Dr. Ross listened to the baby’s heartbeat and asked Isabella questions about dizziness, nausea, muscle weakness, and headaches.
“How long have you experienced these symptoms?”
“Approximately six weeks.”
Margaret answered before Isabella could.
“Normal pregnancy discomfort.”
Dr. Ross looked at her.
“I would prefer the patient to answer.”
Margaret’s face remained still.
Isabella described the morning drink.
“What was in it?” Dr. Ross asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Dr. Mercer formulated a prenatal supplement,” Margaret said.
“Do you have the prescription record?”
“Dr. Mercer does.”
Dr. Ross made a note.
“I would like a blood sample.”
Margaret stood.
“That will not be necessary.”
Dr. Ross looked up.
“It is medically appropriate.”
“The Vale family physician has already conducted tests.”
“I would like to conduct my own.”
Margaret’s voice cooled.
“You are being paid to examine her pregnancy.”
“I am examining her pregnancy.”
Adrian, who had been standing near the window, spoke at last.
“Take the sample.”
Margaret turned to him.
“Adrian.”
“Take it.”
The blood was drawn.
Dr. Ross sealed the vial herself and placed it in a locked case.
Before leaving, she asked to speak with Isabella privately.
Margaret refused.
Adrian did not.
The older woman exited with controlled fury.
Once the door closed, Dr. Ross lowered her voice.
“Mrs. Vale, I cannot make conclusions until the laboratory results return. But your symptoms are not something I would dismiss.”
“Do you suspect poisoning?”
“I suspect exposure to something that requires identification.”
“Could it harm the baby?”
“It depends on the substance.”
Isabella’s hand moved to her stomach.
The baby shifted beneath her palm.
“When will you know?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Dr. Ross handed her a card.
“This number goes directly to me. Do not leave messages with my office. Call me personally.”
That night, Isabella could not sleep.
Adrian lay beside her but seemed equally awake.
“Did you know about the drink?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did you ever see Dr. Mercer prepare it?”
“No.”
“Then why did you defend your mother?”
“I did not defend her.”
“You defended the idea of her.”
He turned toward her.
“She is my mother.”
“And I am your wife.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Adrian reached for her hand.
She allowed him to take it.
After a long silence, he said, “Catherine was my father’s younger sister.”
“Your aunt.”
“Yes.”
“She was pregnant when she died.”
Isabella held her breath.
“How far along?”
“Eight months.”
The same as Isabella would be when the accident occurred.
“Who was the father?”
“No one would tell me.”
“Was the child a boy or a girl?”
“A boy.”
“And they both died?”
Adrian looked toward the ceiling.
“That is what I was told.”
“What do you remember?”
“I remember shouting. I remember my mother washing blood from her hands.”
Isabella turned toward him sharply.
“Blood?”
“She said she tried to save Catherine.”
“Did you see her fall?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know she fell?”
“Because the entire family said she did.”
The next morning, Dr. Ross did not call.
Isabella called the private number.
It had been disconnected.
She contacted the clinic.
The receptionist hesitated before saying Dr. Ross had resigned.
“Resigned when?”
“This morning.”
“Why?”
“I’m not authorized to discuss it.”
“Did she receive my test results?”
There was a pause.
“What test results?”
The call ended.
Isabella went to the room where Dr. Ross had examined her.
The waste container had been emptied. The sheets had been changed.
But beneath the examination table, she found a broken plastic seal from the blood vial.
Someone had opened the sample before it left the villa.
Elena appeared at the door.
“We need to move quickly,” the maid whispered.
She pulled back a section of wallpaper beside the fireplace.
Beneath it was a name carved into the wood.
Not Catherine.
Isabella.
Below the name was a date.
May you like
The date was twenty-eight years earlier.
The day Isabella had been born.
