My doctor father held my head over an open oven until my hair caught fire, completely unaware the burn unit director was about to expose his torture pattern.

The ultraviolet camera clicked rhythmically, capturing the spectral roadmap of my assault. Every frame was an indictment; every luminescent bruise was a fingerprint.

“This isn't just assault,” Vance said as she uploaded the encrypted raw files to an off-site, cloud-based server. “Under state law, this qualifies as aggravated torture with intent to disfigure. It carries a mandatory ten-year minimum, no parole.”

“He will bribe the magistrate,” I said, shivering despite the thermal blanket. “He’s done it before. Grandma Eleanor told me once that Richard had an entire safe in the attic filled with settlement agreements and non-disclosure contracts from women at Cedar Ridge.”

Dr. Vance paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “What did you just say?”

“The attic,” I repeated. “In the old manor house behind the clinic. Grandma Eleanor locked it thirty years ago, but Dad kept a master key. He always referred to it as his ‘insurance policies.’”

Vance’s eyes widened slightly. “Clara Webb’s family tried to subpoena his records during a civil wrongful death inquiry three years ago. Richard’s legal team produced a sworn affidavit stating all departmental correspondence had been destroyed in a localized basement pipe burst. If those records still exist at Cedar Ridge…”

“They do,” I said firmly. “Eleanor never threw anything away, and Dad was too arrogant to destroy his trophies. He keeps everything he thinks gives him leverage.”

Suddenly, the bedside monitor beside me let out a shrill, rhythmic chime. A tiny red light flickered on the ceiling sprinkler head directly above my bed.

Not a sprinkler. A pinhole lens.

Vance saw it the same instant I did. She lunged forward, grabbed a sterile aluminum tray, and hurled it upward, smashing the plastic casing around the tiny hidden camera. It dangled from a thin black wire, sparks snapping softly.

“He had eyes inside this room,” Vance said, her breath turning ragged. “He wasn't just here to intimidate us. He was verifying our position.”