The mansion seemed to inhale differently the day Richard entered Luna’s room without warning and saw her resting calmly against Julia for the first time in months. Exhausted and afraid, he spoke more harshly than he meant to.
“What are you doing, Julia?”
Julia stood quickly, trying to explain. But Richard, hurt and confused, thought he saw a line crossed.
Then Luna panicked.
She ran to Julia, clung to her tightly, and cried out with the fear of someone begging for safety:
“Mommy… don’t let him yell.”
The silence that followed was not the usual silence of the house.
It was revelation.
Richard stood frozen, realizing for the first time that his daughter wasn’t just sick.
She was afraid.
And she wasn’t running to him.
She was running to Julia.
That night, Richard locked himself in his office and opened Luna’s medical file. He read line by line, slowly, like a man discovering he had lived inside a lie.
The drug names. The dosages. The recommendations.
For the first time, he didn’t see hope.
He saw a threat.
The next morning, he ordered several medications stopped. When the nurse asked why, he didn’t answer. Julia wasn’t given an explanation either.
But she noticed something beautiful.
Luna seemed more awake. She ate a little more. Asked for a story. Smiled sometimes—shy, fragile smiles that hurt because they were so precious.
Julia knew she couldn’t carry the truth alone anymore.
She took one bottle, hid it carefully, and on her day off visited Dr. Carla Evans, a friend who worked at a private clinic. Carla listened without judgment and sent the medication to a lab.
Two days later, the call came.
“Julia,” Carla said firmly, “you were right. This isn’t for children. And the dosage… it’s brutal.”
The report spoke of extreme fatigue, organ damage, suppression of normal functions. This wasn’t a “strong treatment.”
It was dangerous.
The same name appeared again and again on the prescriptions:
Dr. Atticus Morrow.
Julia showed the report to Richard. She told him everything—plainly, calmly. The truth didn’t need drama.
Richard’s face drained of color. His hands trembled.
