Chapter 9 - Why Victor wanted my medical records
The manila envelope had been in my bedroom closet.
Hidden beneath old school yearbooks.
Nobody should have known.
Kline did.
He eventually admitted Victor asked him to locate any medical paperwork relating to my remaining kidney.
“Why?”
Kline claimed Victor was afraid I would discover the falsified transplant clearance and report him.
“But why burn the house?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
Kline looked toward his attorney.
No answer.
Fire investigators reconstructed the timeline.
Rita entered at 8:51.
Kline entered through the rear at 8:56.
Rita left at 9:07.
Kline remained.
At 9:11, another person approached the back entrance.
At 9:17, fire.
The third person had not yet been identified.
Then camera enhancement revealed something.
Hospital scrubs.
Dr. Alan West.
Victor’s physician.
The same man connected to the altered transplant clearance.
He denied being there.
Video made that difficult.
His explanation changed.
He had gone to collect sensitive records for Victor.
Why?
“Patient confidentiality.”
At my house?
Without my permission?
Police detained him for questioning.
The conspiracy looked obvious.
That made me cautious.
Obvious explanations often hide another layer.
Then my biopsy results arrived.
The mass was malignant.
Renal cell carcinoma.
Early stage.
Small.
Potentially treatable.
The room went quiet after the oncologist explained it.
One kidney.
Cancer inside it.
But caught early.
Options existed.
Surgery might preserve function.
Nothing guaranteed.
I listened carefully.
Asked questions.
Took notes.
Then I walked outside and sat alone on a bench.
For the first time, I wondered whether donating to Victor had shortened my own life.
The doctor had warned me not to think that way yet.
Still, fear has its own mathematics.
Rita found me.
I told her.
She cried.
I didn’t.
Not then.
Then she said:
“There’s something you need to know.”
“What?”
“Victor had my blood tested last year.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“He told me he wanted a complete health screening.”
“Did he test Lucas?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Everything. Blood type, compatibility markers…”
My pulse changed.
“Compatibility with whom?”
Rita went pale.
She had never asked.
Helen obtained records with consent.
Lucas had undergone tissue typing.
One year earlier.
Before Victor’s kidney failure became critical.
Reason listed:
Potential family donor assessment.
Rita whispered:
“Victor tested his son as a kidney donor.”
“Yes.”
May you like
“Then why did he take yours?”
That question changed everything.
