the prior ozone and fragrance system?”
She nodded slowly.
“Potentially significant.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Not one thing.
Everything.
Then Reeves said:
“There is another implication.”
“What?”
“If exposure began before we documented symptoms, we may have misread some early neurologic complaints as disease progression.”
Nathan looked toward him.
“So?”
“We should re-review every major diagnosis the twins received.”
All of them.
Two years of medicine.
Millions of dollars.
An entire story built on a starting point that might have been wrong.
Nathan stared toward the staircase.
Then whispered:
“Do it.”
But before anyone moved, Mrs. Bennett spoke.
“There’s something I never told you.”
Nathan turned.
She looked terrified.
“What?”
“Catherine asked me to keep copies of the boys’ early symptom notes.”
Nathan froze.
“Where?”
“In her sitting-room safe.”
“You never told me.”
“I thought you knew.”
“Why would I know?”
“Because after she died, your father’s attorney emptied the
