“To do what?” Dr. Grant pressed.
Arthur looked at the boy.
“His father left more than just land,” he said. “There were accounts. Assets. Things that were never fully transferred.”
The boy’s jaw tightened.
“You thought if you stayed ‘injured,’ no one would question your involvement.”
Arthur didn’t deny it.
The truth had already done its damage.
“I had people searching,” he said quietly. “Waiting. Watching.”
“For me,” the boy said.
Arthur nodded once.
The room felt colder.
More dangerous.
Because this was no longer just about fraud.
It was about intent.
About manipulation.
About a man who had built an empire not just on money—
But on silence.
The boy looked around the room.
At the doctors.
At the broken cast.
At the document still in Dr. Hale’s hands.
“You all believed him,” he said softly.
No one responded.
Because he was right.
They had believed the scans.
The reports.
The authority.
They had never questioned the story.
Until someone with nothing walked in—
And broke it.
Dr. Grant straightened her posture, her voice firm now.
“This has to be reported,” she said.
Arthur let out a slow breath.
“Of course it does,” he replied.
But there was something strange in his tone.
Not resistance.
Not panic.