Chapter 3 - The Mask Slips
The door swung open, and Detective Rachel Morgan stepped into the room, flanked by a uniform officer and a hospital security guard.
Daniel, recovering his wits with terrifying speed, straightened his jacket. The polished businessman was back. “No one is speaking to detectives,” he said sharply, stepping between Lena and the door. “My wife is heavily medicated. She’s confused, and this doctor clearly has a personal bias.”
“You told the emergency physician that Elena dropped a pot of soup on herself,” Lena countered, refusing to back down an inch. “The burns are consistent with cooking oil thrown from behind. The camera confirms it.”
“That camera is illegal!” Vivian shrieked, her expensive makeup contorting into a mask of rage. “She recorded us in our own home without permission!”
“Our home?”
The whisper was raw, scraping against my throat, but it stopped the room entirely. Every eye snapped to the bed. I forced my eyelids open, staring directly at the woman who had burned me.
“The house belongs to my trust,” I said, each word a venomous drop of truth. “You were a guest.”
Daniel rushed to my bedside, his eyes wide with a desperate, silent pleading. “Elena, sweetheart, you’re in shock. Don’t say anything until you understand what’s happening.”
Sweetheart. He hadn't called me that in three years unless an audience was watching.
Detective Morgan stepped forward, ignoring Daniel entirely. “Mrs. Cross, are you able to tell me whether you feel safe with either of these people in the room?”
“She is sedated—” Daniel began.
“I asked your wife,” Morgan snapped.
I lifted my trembling hand, pointing a single, bandaged finger toward the hallway. “I want them gone.”
The second officer stepped toward Daniel. Hospital security moved beside Vivian. The illusion of their control shattered in an instant. Vivian’s shock hardened into pure, unadulterated venom. “You ungrateful little snake!” she hissed, lunging toward my bed. “After everything my son gave you—”
“Everything he gave me?” I countered, staring her down. “He gave me fear. You gave me scars.”
The officer caught Vivian’s arm, pulling her back. Driven by frantic malice, she screamed, “She planned this! She wanted to destroy us! She stood there in that kitchen provoking me, staring at me like she was better than us!”
Detective Morgan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You threw the oil?”
The room froze. Vivian froze. She realized, too late, what her rage had cost her. Daniel closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping as he muttered, “Mother, don’t say another word.”
“Separate them,” Morgan ordered.
May you like
As they were dragged out, Daniel turned to look at me over his shoulder. The charm was dead. His face was a mask of naked, terrifying fury. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he whispered.
I held his gaze until the door clicked shut. “Yes,” I said to the empty air. “I do.”
