“The law says otherwise until your evaluation is complete,” Harrison said, a cruel smile returning to his lips.

He stepped back, aligning himself with his mother.

Beatrice raised her hand, making a small, subtle gesture toward the open doorway of the hall.

From the corridor, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the hardwood.

Two men in matching white medical uniforms appeared in the doorway behind Dr. Marren.

They stood tall, their expressions blank, waiting for instruction.

The air in the room suddenly felt incredibly cold.

The wind shook the glass panes behind me, sending a chill through the drafty drawing room.

The two orderlies did not move, their arms crossed over their chests like stone pillars.

“What is the meaning of this, Beatrice?” I asked, keeping my voice as steady as I could.

Beatrice sighed, a sound full of theatrical pity.

“It breaks my heart to do this in front of everyone,” she said, looking toward the open double doors of the drawing room.

A few remaining guests from the dinner stood in the hallway, whispering behind their hands.