Chapter 3 - The anatomy of an accident
Determined to uncover the origin of the device, Scarlett shifted her focus to the genesis of Lily's supposed injury. The car crash that had claimed the life of Adrian's late wife, Elena, had occurred three years ago on a winding coastal highway. The official police report cited brake failure and severe weather conditions. Elena had perished instantly, while Lily, secured in the backseat, had miraculously survived with a shattered tibia that necessitated the complex, custom-made orthopedic brace she wore to this day. Scarlett visited the retired insurance investigator who had initially handled the collision claim, a cynical man named Miller who lived in a dusty, cluttered apartment in Queens. Miller remembered the case vividly. He poured two cups of bitter coffee and pulled a heavily redacted file from a locked cabinet. He admitted that the telemetry data from the vehicle's onboard computer didn't match the physical skid marks on the asphalt. The car's autonomous driving system had been manually overridden just seconds before the impact, executing a sharp, deliberate turn directly into the concrete barrier. When Miller had tried to push the investigation further, Adrian's corporate lawyers had descended like vultures, burying the inquiry under a mountain of non-disclosure agreements and overwhelming financial settlements. Scarlett asked about the medical brace. Miller revealed that the device was not ordered from a standard pediatric orthopedist. It was commissioned by Elena herself, weeks before the crash, from a highly specialized, off-the-books robotics laboratory funded by a subsidiary of Adrian’s own company. Scarlett’s mind raced. Elena had ordered the brace before Lily’s leg was ever broken. The injury was not the cause of the brace; the brace was the reason for the injury. As Scarlett left the apartment, her phone rang. It was an unknown, untraceable number. She answered cautiously. The voice on the other end was high-pitched, sweet, and perfectly innocent. Hi, Scarlett, Lily chirped cheerfully. Mr. Miller talks too much, doesn't he? You should tell him to be careful on the stairs. He's getting very old. Scarlett froze on the sidewalk, the blood draining from her face. How are you doing this, Lily? Scarlett demanded, her voice shaking. The line went dead. A horrifying realization settled over Scarlett. Lily wasn't just monitoring her digital footprint; she was actively listening to her physical conversations through the network of microphones in the city. And she had just placed a target on an innocent man's back.
