Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Woke Up AloneI woke up to the sound of rain against glass.

For a few seconds, I thought I was home. Then the antiseptic smell reached me, followed by the ache in my hip, the dry burn in my throat, and the heavy pull of an IV taped to my hand.

Hospital.

The wedding.

The wine.

Evelyn.

My eyes flew open.

A nurse appeared beside me immediately. “Elena, you’re safe.”

That word almost broke me.

Safe.

People used it too easily. Safe meant someone had noticed. Safe meant someone had believed me. Safe meant someone had chosen my life over a family photograph.

“Where am I?”

“St. Catherine’s Medical Center. You had a severe hypoglycemic episode complicated by forced alcohol ingestion and an unknown sedative.”

I tried to sit up. Pain ripped across my side.

“Easy,” the nurse said. “Your infusion site tore badly. We cleaned and dressed it. Endocrinology has been in. Toxicology too.”

“Toxicology.”

Her face softened. “Agent Vale is outside. He’s been waiting.”

“Grant?”

Her expression told me enough before she spoke.

“He came earlier.”

My stomach tightened.

“Did you let him in?”

“You had a restricted visitor list for security reasons. Agent Vale asked that no Blackwood family members be allowed without your consent.”

For security reasons.

My engagement had become a security risk.

I stared at the ceiling.

“Did Grant leave?”

“He shouted at the front desk until hospital security escorted him to the lobby.”

Of course he did.

Not because he had failed me.

Because someone had told him no.

“Chloe?”

The nurse hesitated.

“She came too. She’s in the waiting area. She’s been crying for hours.”

A hard, bitter part of me wanted to say good.

But grief was more complicated than revenge.

“Not yet,” I whispered.

The nurse nodded as if she understood more than I had said. “Agent Vale has your medical bag.”

My eyes burned.

“He found it?”

“Yes. In a locked coat closet.”

Locked.

Of course.

Evelyn had not simply moved it away.

She had locked it up.

The nurse adjusted my blanket. “Do you want to see him?”

I did not know whether she meant Grant or Sebastian.

I realized I knew exactly which answer I wanted.

“Agent Vale.”

Minutes later, Sebastian entered.

He wore the same white shirt, but the sleeves were down now, cuffs buttoned. He looked tired in a controlled way, the kind of tired that came from forcing himself to function long after emotion should have taken over.

He stopped at the foot of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone tried to kill me at a wedding.”

Something dark passed through his eyes. “They may have.”

I swallowed.

“Was it poison?”

“We’re waiting on full toxicology. Preliminary testing found a sedative compound and a substance that can intensify confusion and loss of motor control, especially mixed with alcohol and low blood sugar.”

My hands curled into the blanket.

“She wanted people to think I collapsed because I was dramatic.”

“Yes.”

“She wanted me alive or dead?”

Sebastian did not answer immediately.

That was answer enough.

I turned my face toward the window. Rain streaked down the glass.

“Tell me about your sister.”

He was quiet for so long I thought he would refuse.

Then he pulled the chair closer and sat.

“Margaret was smarter than everyone in every room and kinder than most deserved. She worked financial crimes because she believed rich people should not be allowed to buy morality. She got hired to audit the Blackwood Foundation after a whistleblower complaint.”

“What did she find?”

“Money moving through medical charities. Shell vendors. Fake treatment grants. Payments to private accounts connected to Evelyn.”

“Medical charities?”

“Yes.”

A humorless laugh scraped my throat. “So she stole from sick people while calling me attention-seeking.”

Sebastian’s mouth tightened. “That appears to be one theory.”

“What happened to Margaret?”

“She attended a fundraiser at Bellefleur Manor. She called me from the restroom and said she had proof. She sounded scared. Twenty minutes later, she collapsed in front of the dessert table.”

My chest hurt.

“Like me.”

“Like you.”

“Who gave her wine?”

His eyes turned colder.

“Evelyn.”

Neither of us spoke.

The rain kept tapping against the glass, steady and patient.

“What happens now?” I asked.

“We build the case.”

“You mean I do.”

His gaze lifted.

I looked at him through the pale hospital light. “You need me to testify.”

“Yes.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I still do my job. But your testimony matters.”

I thought of Evelyn’s hand gripping my chin. Chloe looking away. Grant warning me not to argue. The bitter taste sliding down my throat.

Then I thought of Margaret Ellis, calling her brother from a bathroom with proof in her hands and fear in her voice.

“I’ll testify,” I said.

Sebastian’s expression shifted.

Not relief exactly.

Respect.

“Good.”

A knock sounded at the door.

The nurse stepped in. “Elena, there’s someone asking to see you.”

“Grant?”

“No.”

She looked uncomfortable.

“Your sister.”

My throat tightened.

Through the small window in the door, I saw Chloe standing in the hallway, no longer a bride. Her veil was gone. Her makeup was ruined. Her wedding gown was covered at the hem with rainwater and mud.

For the first time in my life, my perfect older sister looked small.

Sebastian stood.

“I can stay,” he said.

I looked at Chloe.

Then at him.

“Please.”

He moved to the corner of the room, present but silent.

The nurse opened the door.

Chloe stepped inside and saw me in the hospital bed.

Her face crumpled.

“Elena,” she whispered.

I waited.

She covered her mouth with one shaking hand.

“I let her hurt you.”

May you like

He let his mother throw his grieving wife’s purse into the mud, unaware...

His girlfriend dumped him for a man in a G-Wagon on graduation day—then...

My sister ripped open my blouse at Dad’s retirement gala to show 200 gue...

The words were not enough.

But they were the first honest ones she had spoken all day.