Chapter 219
Uriah glanced at Carter, his voice low and deliberate. “You… you’ve got the biggest problem of the three of you today. By far.”
He gestured toward the chair. “Sit. Let me check-see just how deep this runs.”
Carter looked over at Nate.
Nate rubbed the back of his head, awkward and uneasy. He could tell what Carter was thinking.
They’d all heard the rumors-this old man was supposed to be some legendary doctor, a true miracle worker. Nate had spent a fortune and months of effort tracking him down.
But now? He couldn’t even tell who had the terminal illness? What if he was just a scam artist?
Kelly, listening quietly, felt a sudden flicker of hope rise in her chest.
So the old man was a fraud.
Perfect.
Frauds wanted money. And money made them easy to control.
She could play along, take whatever medicine he gave her, pretend to follow treatment for a few months, and then declare she was miraculously cured..
Problem solved.
She’d been worrying about how to fake a recovery without raising suspicion-this was the answer, served up on a silver platter.
Carter took a seat in front of the old man.
Nate narrowed his eyes, watching closely.
If this fraud dared to claim that Carter was the one with the terminal illness, Nate swore he’d destroy the old man’s reputation on the spot. He’d smear “Con Artist” across his face and drag him through the streets.
But Uriah just sighed, shaking his head slowly.
“Ay… never would’ve guessed. Young as you are, you’ve already got something incurable. What a pity. What a shame…”
Nate’s eyes went wide.
No way. He really was a con artist!
He was about to explode when Carter’s voice-calm and quiet as a still lake-cut in first.
“May I ask, sir… what exactly is this incurable condition I have?”
Nate held back his outburst.
So Carter wanted to see how far this old fraud would go with his act.
Uriah stroked his white beard thoughtfully.
“Your eyes,” he said. “Big problem there. If you don’t correct it soon, you might go blind.”
He tapped his chest. “And your heart-it’s not where it should be. Grown off-center. Way off.”
“But the worst…” He raised a finger and pointed at his own head. “Is right here. Your brain.”
1/2
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if revealing some tragic secret.
“Seems like it’s been soaked in something toxic. Whatever it was, it’s eaten away a good chunk of it. Almost liquefied in there.”
He sighed again. “With all these issues piling up, tell me-if that’s not terminal, what is?”
When Uriah first mentioned the eye issue, Nate rolled his eyes. Obvious quack.
But then came the heart thing-and Nate hesitated.
Could it be… Carter’s heart really was on the right side?
By the time the old man finished his talk about brains turning to soup, Nate finally understood.
The old man was mocking them.
Damn it. Who the hell did this guy think he was?
Carter had clearly caught on, too. He looked at Uriah and said quietly, “Sir, you seem to harbor quite a bit of hostility toward us.”
Uriah removed his reading glasses, eyes gleaming. “So your brain’s not completely gone after all.”
Nate was about to blow up, but Carter raised a hand to stop him.
He turned back to the old man. “May I ask… why?”
Uriah answered with a kind of blunt, effortless arrogance. “Why? Because you all just look like bad news. I don’t like the look of you. That’s all.”
Carter didn’t react. His voice remained steady. “Then let me ask you this-do you have a way to treat the illness we came here for?”
Today’s Bonus Offer
GET IT NOW
2/2
