I stared at her.
"What happened then?"
"The hospital withdrew from discussions. Years passed. My father died before we ever received answers."
Her eyes filled.
"I stopped expecting anyone to tell us the truth."
I took a shaky breath.
"June, my father preserved records."
She looked up sharply.
"What kind?"
"Treatment records. Adverse-event reports. Financial documents."
June covered her mouth.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered:
**"Mara, if those records are real, they might finally explain what happened to all of us."**
***
Over the next week, an independent attorney named Evelyn Grant began reviewing the evidence with specialists.
June agreed to participate.
So did two other former patients.
One man had developed serious visual impairment.
Another woman had experienced complications that required years of treatment.
Not every case was the same.
Not every injury could automatically be attributed to the research.
But the documents revealed enough concerns to justify a formal investigation.
