Angela Pierce arrived in Dominic’s study shortly after midnight wrapped in a blanket.
She looked exhausted.
Dr. Mercer checked her first.
No serious injuries.
No need for emergency hospitalization.
Only then did Dominic allow questions.
Angela sat across from him.
Vincent remained near the door.
Clare had taken Ellie upstairs again.
Arthur had been escorted to a separate sitting room under guard.
Dominic folded his hands.
“Tell me everything.”
Angela stared at the floor.
“Three weeks ago, someone asked me about your recovery schedule.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Angela.”
She looked up.
“Peter Sloan.”
Vincent stiffened.
Dominic felt something far worse.
Peter Sloan had managed Dominic’s household for twelve years.
He knew every employee.
Every alarm.
Every guest schedule.
Every service entrance.
He had been there when Dominic buried his father.
He had arranged Dominic’s mother’s funeral.
He had visited the hospital after the crash.
“Continue.”
Angela swallowed.
“He asked whether adjusting the brace could make your recovery slower.”
Mercer stepped forward.
“And you answered?”
“I thought it was a medical question. I said an incorrect fit could increase pain.”
“What happened next?”
“He offered me money.”
Dominic’s expression remained unchanged.
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
Angela began crying quietly.
“I told him he was insane.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“He threatened my brother.”
Vincent frowned.
“Your brother?”
“He has gambling debt.”
Dominic understood.
Peter hadn’t needed Angela’s cooperation.
Only her silence.
“What did Peter do?”
“He started changing the brace after sessions.”
“How?”
“Small adjustments. Nothing obvious.”
Mercer’s face hardened.
“Enough to aggravate the nerve.”
Angela nodded.
“He told me nobody would notice.”
Dominic remembered Ellie’s words.
Just enough.
“Yesterday?”
Angela wiped her eyes.
“Arthur came.”
“What happened?”
“He wanted the brace tightened more.”
Arthur.
There it was.
Not suspicion.
Not implication.
A witness.
Dominic’s voice became quieter.
“And you objected.”
“Yes.”
“What did Arthur say?”
“That the council vote was that night and they needed Dominic to look weak.”
Vincent looked toward Dominic.
Angela continued.
“I told him I was done staying quiet. I said I was going to tell Dr. Mercer.”
“What happened?”
“Peter came behind me.”
Her hands began trembling.
“He took my phone. They put me in the maintenance room.”
“Why leave you alive?”
“I don’t know.”
Dominic did.
Because murder created questions.
A frightened employee could be discredited.
Or paid.
Or threatened again.
“What about the cameras?”
“Peter said he handled them.”
Vincent immediately left the room.
Dominic stared at Angela.
“Did Arthur personally touch the brace?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
“He reversed the retaining plate himself.”
Mercer cursed.
Dominic felt something inside him become perfectly still.
For eleven weeks he had fought his own body.
For three weeks he had believed he was losing.
But the weakness wasn’t proof of failure.
It was evidence of betrayal.
He stood.
“Rest.”
Angela stared at him.
“What happens to me?”
“You tell the truth to the proper authorities.”
“And my brother?”
“We’ll make sure he’s safe while this is investigated.”
She started crying again.
“Thank you.”
Dominic left.
Vincent met him in the hallway.
“Peter’s gone.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Lockdown?”
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