Chapter 13 - The Wrong Scan
For ten seconds, neither Ethan nor Natalie spoke.
Dr. Shah turned the monitor toward them.
“Your biopsy is unquestionably yours. You have lymphoma. That diagnosis is real.”
Natalie gripped the blanket.
“But?”
“But the PET scan uploaded under your medical record six weeks ago shows disease in areas we do not see today.”
Ethan frowned.
“Could treatment have reduced it?”
“She hasn’t started treatment.”
Natalie whispered, “Then whose scan is it?”
“We don’t know yet.”
The hospital launched an internal review.
The scan had been uploaded from an outside imaging center.
Authorization contact: Allison Grant.
Ethan closed his eyes.
Of course.
Everything came back to Allison.
But the truth was stranger than simple forgery.
The imaging center had performed Natalie’s real scan.
Then, three hours later, another image file had been uploaded manually through a remote physician portal.
The credentials belonged to Dr. Vane.
The second file showed extensive disease.
That was the image Allison had printed and shown Natalie.
Dr. Shah had never used it for treatment planning because she had ordered repeat staging through her own hospital.
But Natalie had seen the false version first.
And Allison had interpreted it for her.
Terminal.
Maybe a year.
Ethan felt rage rise again.
“She manufactured a death sentence.”
Dr. Shah nodded carefully.
“It appears someone exaggerated the extent of disease.”
Natalie pressed both palms to her face.
“My sister made me believe I was dying.”
Ethan sat beside her.
This time she did not pull away.
“I quit my job.”
“We can fix jobs.”
“I changed my proxy.”
“We fixed that.”
“I almost let her move me.”
“You didn’t know.”
Natalie looked at him.
“No. Don’t make me innocent because you love me.”
He was silent.
She continued.
“I didn’t know about the fraud. But I chose not to ask you about the divorce email. I chose secrecy. I let fear do my thinking.”
Ethan reached for her hand.
“You were manipulated.”
“And I still made choices.”
That was the first moment he felt the possibility of repair.
Not because she apologized.
Because she accepted the part that belonged to her.
Dr. Shah explained the revised plan.
Six cycles.
Outpatient infusions.
Close monitoring.
A difficult road, but a very real chance of remission.
Natalie laughed through tears.
“I spent six weeks thinking I had a year.”
“You have more than a year,” Dr. Shah said.
“How much more?”
Dr. Shah smiled.
“I don’t sell guarantees. But your odds are much better than the story you were given.”
After she left, Ethan leaned back in the chair.
Natalie squeezed his hand.
“I’m terrified.”
“Good.”
She stared at him.
“Good?”
“It means you’re dealing with the real thing now, not Allison’s version.”
Natalie gave a broken laugh.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
Sergeant Moreno.
“We found the source of the fake divorce email.”
Ethan sat upright.
“Who created it?”
Moreno paused.
“Not Allison.”
Natalie heard him.
Her expression changed.
Ethan asked, “Then who?”
Moreno answered.
“Your brother.”
— — —
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