What Evidence Looks Like
“I kept a copy, because that administrator was once the subject of an investigation.”
I sat there holding a photocopy of the truth and I did the math no one had ever let me do.
Every doctor I had trusted.
Every specialist Cassian had steered me toward, always the ones he chose, always the ones who returned the same verdict.
It hadn’t been a run of bad luck or a rare medical mystery.
It had been a route, planned in advance, each stop selected to deliver me the same lie in a slightly different voice, until the repetition itself became the proof.