Chapter 6 - The File with My NameThe first thing I thought was impossible.
The second thing I thought was Grant.
Because why would Evelyn Thorne-Blackwood have a file with my name on it unless someone close to me had helped her build it?
Sebastian did not show me the file that night. Evidence, chain of custody, legal procedure—words that sounded clean compared with the ugly thing they described.
But he told me enough.
“They had medical records,” he said from the foot of my hospital bed.
My heart lurched.
“My medical records?”
“Yes.”
“Private ones?”
“Yes.”
Chloe made a small sound beside me.
I stared at Sebastian. “How?”
“We’re investigating that.”
“Grant.”
The name left my mouth before I could stop it.
Sebastian’s face did not change, which meant he had already considered it.
“He had access?”
“He knew where I kept things. Insurance information. Emergency plans. Passwords for travel forms.” My voice dropped. “I trusted him.”
Chloe sat down hard.
Sebastian continued. “The file also contained photographs of your pump, your CGM, your medical bag, and a printed schedule of your insulin settings.”
Cold slid through me.
Not panic this time.
Violation.
Someone had studied my body like a weakness map.
“There were handwritten notes,” Sebastian said.
“What kind of notes?”
He hesitated.
“Tell me.”
His jaw tightened. “Phrases. Observations. ‘Alarm triggers sympathy.’ ‘Juice dependency.’ ‘Public collapse pattern.’”
Chloe whispered, “Oh my God.”
I looked at her. “Still think she just found me annoying?”
Her face crumpled.
Sebastian’s voice remained controlled. “There was also a page marked ‘Wedding Risk.’”
I almost laughed. “I was the risk?”
“To Evelyn, yes.”
“What did it say?”
He looked at the machines beside my bed, then back to me. “Elena, you don’t need to hear every detail tonight.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” he said gently. “But I understand why you want to.”
That stopped me because it was the first time all day someone had not mistaken my need for control as drama.
I breathed through the ache in my ribs.
“Give me the important part.”
Sebastian nodded once.
“The file suggested Evelyn believed you might embarrass the family by having a medical episode during the wedding. It listed ways to ‘reduce visibility.’ Remove bag from photos. Keep you away from sweet drinks. Have Grant ‘manage’ you if alarm sounds.”
I closed my eyes.
Grant had not merely failed to protect me.
He had been assigned to manage me.
“Did he write any of it?” Chloe asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
“But his name was there?”
“Yes.”
Chloe pressed a hand to her stomach.
I opened my eyes. “Where is he now?”
“At the federal building with counsel.”
“He lawyered up?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
Grant Blackwood had watched me nearly die, then protected himself before checking whether I was alive.
The pain of that should have been sharp.
Instead it was clean.
A blade so cold I barely felt it.
“I want him off my visitor list permanently,” I said.
“Already done,” Sebastian replied.
“And Evelyn?”
“Detained. Her attorneys are pushing for release by morning.”
“They can do that?”
“They can try.”
“What if she gets out?”
Sebastian stepped closer. “Then we increase protection.”
I looked at him. “For me?”
“For you, your sister, and any witness willing to testify.”
Chloe looked up sharply. “Am I in danger?”
Sebastian did not soften the truth.
“Yes.”
Her lips parted.
“For giving a statement?”
“For being married to Julian Blackwood for twenty-three minutes and then cooperating with federal agents.”
The hospital room suddenly felt smaller.
Chloe wrapped her arms around herself. “Where am I supposed to go?”
I knew what she was asking without asking.
Not back to Julian.
Not to Bellefleur.
Not to our parents yet, because they were still driving in from Connecticut, frantic and half-informed.
She looked at me like we were children again and there was thunder outside.
I was tired. Hurt. Angry.
But she was my sister.
“Stay here tonight,” I said.
Her face broke.
“I don’t deserve that.”
“No,” I said. “You don’t. Stay anyway.”
Sebastian’s phone rang again.
He answered, listened, then turned away slightly.
“What?” I asked.
He ended the call and faced us.
“Evelyn’s attorneys have filed an emergency injunction claiming the FBI unlawfully disrupted a private family event.”
Chloe let out a disbelieving laugh. “She poisoned my sister.”
“Allegedly,” Sebastian said, because the law required the word.
His eyes, however, said something else.
“What else?” I asked.
He looked directly at me.
“Grant has made a statement.”
My throat tightened.
“And?”
Sebastian’s expression was careful.
“He claims you removed your own pump for attention.”
The room went quiet.
Chloe stood so fast her chair scraped the floor.
“That liar.”
My hands curled into fists under the blanket.
“He said I did it myself?”
Sebastian nodded.
“And the wine?”
“He says you grabbed it from Evelyn and drank voluntarily.”
The betrayal did not hit like a slap.
It hit like drowning.
Slow pressure. No air. No floor beneath me.
Chloe’s voice shook with rage. “I saw her. I told them I saw her.”
“Your statement matters,” Sebastian said.
“My statement?” she snapped. “There were three hundred people in that room.”
May you like
Sebastian’s face darkened.
“And so far, most of them remember looking away.”
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