Chapter 3
I tried to visit Grandma at the hospital the next morning.
The intensive care unit was quiet, the halls smelling like antiseptic and fear. I’d borrowed one of Mia’s sweaters and brushed my hair, hoping I looked like family instead of a criminal. I made it all the way to the nurse’s station before Margaret saw me.
She was sitting by Grandma’s door, her eyes red and puffy, a designer handbag clutched in her lap. The second she saw me, she was on her feet, screaming so loud every head in the unit turned.
“You!” she shrieked, pointing at me. “How dare you show your face here! You almost killed my mother! Get out! Get out before I call security!”
I tried to speak, tried to tell her it was Ryan, tried to beg her to let me see Grandma just for a minute, but she wouldn’t listen. She was hysterical, screaming that I’d ruined everything, that I’d never see Lily again, that I’d rot in prison for the rest of my life.
Two security guards showed up a minute later, grabbing my arms and walking me out. They didn’t care that I was family. They didn’t care that I just wanted to make sure Grandma was alive. They just saw the woman the police had questioned for assault.
I waited in the hospital parking lot for three hours, sitting on the curb in the hot Texas sun, watching the front doors. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t know what else to do.
A nurse in blue scrubs walked out around noon, carrying a coffee cup. She stopped when she saw me, squinting like she recognized me.
“Vivian?” she said. “Vivian Carter? We went to high school together. Homecoming, senior year? You were on the court.”
I nodded, my throat tight. Her name was Sarah. She’d been a year behind me. She was nice. She’d always been nice.
She looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was watching, then sat down next to me on the curb, her voice low.
“I’m on Grandma Eleanor’s floor,” she said. “I was the one who checked her vitals at three last night.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “Is she okay? Is she awake?”
Sarah shook her head. “Still unconscious. The brain swelling is going down, but it’s slow. She might not wake up for days. Maybe weeks.” She paused, biting her lip. “But she mumbled something last night. Twice. When I was changing her IV.”
“What?” I grabbed her arm, my fingers tight. “What did she say?”
“Ryan.” Sarah’s voice was barely a whisper. “She said his name, clear as day. Both times. And she squeezed my hand so hard I thought she’d break my fingers when I said it back to him.” She paused again. “I also saw Ryan leave her room at ten last night. He snuck in through the back stairwell. Thought no one saw him. He was leaning over her bed, whispering. I couldn’t hear what he said, but his face… it was scary. I called hospital security, but by the time they got there, he was gone. They said there was no proof anything happened.”
She pulled a small piece of paper out of her scrub pocket, folded tight, and pressed it into my hand.
“Her neurologist’s cell number,” she said. “Call him tomorrow. Tell him Sarah sent you. He’s a good man. He’ll let you know if anything changes. Don’t tell anyone I gave this to you. I could lose my job.”
I hugged her so tight I thought I’d crush her. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
She left a minute later, rushing back inside. I unfolded the paper, staring at the number written in blue pen, and cried. It was the first tiny thread of hope I’d had since Lily screamed those terrible words.
I drove straight to the mansion after that, my hands shaking on the wheel. I didn’t care if Margaret screamed at me again. I didn’t care if Daniel called the cops. I needed the security camera footage from the foyer. The cameras above the staircase recorded everything, twenty-four seven. If Ryan had pushed Grandma, it would be on tape.
Ryan answered the door.
He was wearing a silk bathrobe, holding a glass of orange juice, like he owned the place. I guess he thought he did. He smirked when he saw me, leaning against the doorframe.
“Come to beg?” he said, his voice lazy. “Sorry. No Lily for you. No Grandma. No money. Nothing.”
“I want the security footage from the staircase,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “From Sunday. Right now.”
Ryan laughed. It was a cold, sharp sound.
“Deleted it all last night,” he said. “Every second of it. Oops. Old system, you know? Crashed. No backup. The cops already asked. Too bad, so sad.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only I could hear. “You’ll never prove a thing, Vivian. Lily’s testimony is ironclad. The will is ironclad. You’re going to prison, and I’m going to raise your daughter to be a proper Hale. She’ll forget you even exist in a year.”
He slammed the door in my face.
I stood on the porch, my hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. He thought he’d won. He thought he’d taken everything.
He was wrong.
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I turned and walked back to my car. I didn’t have the footage. But I had Sarah’s testimony. I had the debt letters I knew existed. I had Lily’s whisper.
And I wasn’t going to stop until every single lie he’d told came crashing down around him.
