Rosalie laid the medical receipt on the desk.
“Did you remove the projectile?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is metal still inside his ear?”
Silas blinked.
Merrick whispered from the doorway.
“Metal?”
Rosalie turned.
Merrick looked genuinely surprised.
She looked back at Silas.
“A living larva crawled from infected tissue around it.”
Silas’s expression became unreadable.
Rosalie continued.
“He could hear after the accident.
After your surgery, he couldn’t.”
Silas poured another whiskey.
“Primitive surgery carries risks.”
“You wrote that you removed the projectile.”
“I removed what I could.”
“That is not what this receipt says.”
“Receipts are not medical records.”
“Then show me the records.”
Silas did not answer.
Rosalie repeated it.
“Show me Gideon’s medical records.”
“They’re gone.”
“All of them?”
“There was a fire.”
Rosalie stared.
“What fire?”
“In the storage room.”
“When?”
Silas’s patience snapped.
“Must I remember every minor event from thirty years ago?”
“No,” Rosalie said
