“He is starving, Julian,” Lorenzo said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “He is half the weight he should be.”

“It was a slow dose,” Halloran said. “Just enough to make him look sick. Just enough to keep him dependent on the private clinic.”

“Why?” Lorenzo asked.

“If the child was healthy, you would have closed the foundation,” Halloran said. “You were already talking about pulling the funding after Sophia died.”

Lorenzo stared at him.

“You poisoned my son to keep your research money,” Lorenzo said.

“It was the only way to keep the labs open,” Halloran said. “I was going to cure him eventually. I swear, Lorenzo. Once the funding was secure.”

“You framed Angela,” I said, my chest heaving with anger. “You drugged her coffee so she would sleep through his distress.”

Halloran didn’t deny it.

He looked down at the gravel.

“She was lazy anyway,” Halloran muttered. “She was an easy target.”

“And Mrs. Bellamy?” I asked.

“She has a sister in a care facility that my foundation pays for,” Halloran said. “She did what she had to do to keep her sister alive.”