PART 4 — THE BLACK OBJECT THAT REVEALED A TERRIBLE LIE

For several seconds, Rosalie couldn’t move.

The black object lay inside the porcelain bowl.

It was longer than her little finger, curved slightly, and covered in a dark, sticky substance. One end had a strange metallic glimmer.

Gideon stared at it.

Then he looked at Rosalie.

She quickly took a clean cloth and covered the bowl.

“Don’t touch it.”

He couldn’t hear her, so she grabbed his notebook.

Something has been inside your ear. We need a doctor immediately.

Gideon read the sentence.

His expression changed.

He shook his head.

Rosalie frowned and wrote again.

You have suffered for years. We are not ignoring this.

He took the pencil.

Doctor Bell examined me when I was twelve.

Rosalie waited.

Gideon continued writing.

He said the accident destroyed my hearing. Nothing could be done.

She looked toward the covered bowl.

Then why did something come out tonight?

Gideon didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached for the old wooden box beneath his bed.

Inside were several faded medical papers, a small pH๏τograph and a letter bearing the name of Dr. Bell.

Rosalie opened the letter.

The writing was difficult to read, but one sentence immediately caught her attention.

The patient must not be subjected to further examination without my authorization.

She looked at Gideon.

“Why would a doctor write that?”

He shrugged helplessly.

Then she found another document.

It was dated twenty-six years earlier.

The report described an accident involving a young boy, a horse and a severe injury near the right ear.

But something was wrong.

The report stated that Gideon had suffered permanent damage to his inner ear.

There was no mention of any foreign object.

No description of an obstruction.

No recommendation for further examination.

Rosalie turned the page.

At the bottom was a signature.

Dr. Bell.

And beneath it, another name.

Nathaniel Rook.

Gideon’s father.

Rosalie felt a chill.

“Your father signed this?”

Gideon read her question.

His face тιԍнтened.

He took the pencil.

My father trusted Bell.

Rosalie examined the pH๏τograph inside the box.

It showed Gideon as a little boy, standing beside a younger man in a doctor’s coat.

On the back, someone had written:

Gideon and Dr. Bell, spring of 1857.

She turned the pH๏τograph over again.

The doctor’s face was familiar.

It was the same man who still practiced medicine in Coldwater.

But Rosalie had noticed something else.

In the pH๏τograph, little Gideon was holding a small wooden horse.

And beside his right ear was a dark mark.

It looked remarkably similar to the stain she had just seen.

She sat down.

“Your hearing may not have been lost because of the accident alone.”

Gideon watched her lips.

She wrote the sentence.

He read it slowly.

Then he shook his head, as though he was afraid to believe it.

Rosalie placed her hand over his.

We will find out the truth.

For the first time, Gideon squeezed her fingers.

The following morning, Rosalie prepared to travel to Coldwater.

Gideon insisted on accompanying her.

His ear was still painful, and she was worried about the remaining swelling. She had wrapped the removed object securely and intended to have a qualified doctor examine it rather than attempt anything further herself.

When they arrived in town, people immediately noticed them.

A few women whispered.

Someone laughed.

“Look! The deaf rancher has finally brought his new wife into town.”

Rosalie ignored them.

She walked straight into Dr. Bell’s office.

The elderly physician looked up from his desk.

“Mrs. Rook. What brings you here?”

Rosalie placed the wrapped object on his desk.

“We need you to examine this.”

The doctor’s face changed.

Only for a second.

But Rosalie saw it.

He didn’t look surprised.

He looked frightened.

“Where did you get that?”

“From my husband’s ear.”

Dr. Bell stood abruptly.

“Impossible.”

Gideon moved closer.

He watched the doctor’s lips.

Rosalie repeated the words.

“Impossible.”

Gideon’s expression hardened.

He opened his notebook.

You told me nothing could be removed.

Dr. Bell refused to look at him.

“That was twenty-six years ago.”

Rosalie leaned forward.

“Then perhaps you can explain why his medical report never mentioned this condition.”

The doctor picked up the wrapped object.

His fingers trembled.

“Mrs. Rook, I suggest you leave this matter alone.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

Rosalie stared at him.

“Then explain it.”

The doctor remained silent.

Finally, he placed the object inside a drawer and locked it.

“You need to go home.”

Gideon reached for the notebook.

He wrote three words.

You knew something.

Dr. Bell looked at him.

For the first time, the old physician seemed unable to meet his patient’s eyes.

“Your father asked me to keep certain things private.”

Gideon froze.

His father had been ᴅᴇᴀᴅ for eleven years.

Rosalie’s heart began pounding.

“What things?”

The doctor opened his mouth.

Then the office door swung open.

A man entered wearing an expensive black coat.

Rosalie recognized him immediately.

Merrick Ashford.

Her brother.

The same man who had helped their father sell her marriage for fifty dollars.

He looked at Gideon.

Then at Rosalie.

And smiled.

“Well, sister. I see married life hasn’t made you any less curious.”

Rosalie’s stomach тιԍнтened.

“What are you doing here?”

Merrick removed his gloves.

“Looking for you.”

“Why?”

He glanced toward the locked drawer.

Then he said something that made Gideon immediately reach for his wife’s hand.

“Because Father made a terrible mistake when he sold you to this rancher.”

Merrick leaned closer.

“He sold you for fifty dollars.”

His smile widened.

“But he never told you what else came with the marriage.”