Chapter 5
For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except my own heartbeat.
Vanessa.
My husband's mistress.
The woman who removed my mother's bracelets while I lay unconscious.
The woman who smiled as Marcus signed mysterious paperwork.
Her name was now attached to a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on my life.
I gripped the phone.
"Renee, are you sure?"
Her voice shook.
"I'm looking at the document."
I closed my eyes.
"Send me a picture."
"Already doing it."
A notification appeared.
I opened the image.
There it was.
My full name.
Naomi Bennett.
The policy amount.
Five million dollars.
And beneath the beneficiary section, Vanessa Carter.
My stomach twisted.
I wanted to believe it was a mistake.
A clerical error.
Something explainable.
But deep down, I knew better.
"Renee," I whispered, "get out of the house."
She hesitated.
"What?"
"Take the documents and leave."
"Naomi—"
"Please."
My voice broke.
"I don't know what Marcus might do if he finds you there."
Renee went silent.
Then she answered.
"Okay."
I heard footsteps.
A door opening.
Then her car starting.
Only when she told me she was driving away did I breathe again.
I immediately called Angela.
She listened carefully.
Then asked me to forward the photograph.
I did.
Her response was serious.
"Naomi, do not confront Marcus about this."
I swallowed.
"Why?"
"Because we need to verify the policy and preserve the evidence."
I looked at the photograph again.
"Could he really collect that money if I died?"
Angela paused.
"That depends on the validity of the policy, the beneficiary designation, and applicable law."
I nodded.
She continued.
"But if the document is authentic, the circumstances warrant investigation."
My hands trembled.
"Do you think he tried to kill me?"
Angela answered carefully.
"I don't know. And I won't guess."
Then her voice softened.
"But I do think your concerns are serious enough to report."
I stared at the ceiling.
I had married Marcus when I was twenty-four.
He was charming.
Ambitious.
Funny.
He used to bring me flowers on ordinary Tuesdays.
He danced with me in the kitchen.
He held my hand during my mother's funeral.
He promised to protect me forever.
Now I was lying in a hospital bed wondering whether he had deliberately made me unconscious.
I couldn't understand how love had turned into something so frightening.
Angela helped me contact the appropriate authorities.
I provided a statement.
I gave them the photographs.
I explained the suspicious bank request.
I described what I heard in the hospital room.
And I told them about the strange taste in my water before I collapsed.
The investigators listened.
They asked detailed questions.
They didn't promise an immediate answer.
But they took the information seriously.
For the first time, I felt that someone outside my family was beginning to see the danger.
That evening, Renee visited again.
She brought clean clothes and a photograph of Grace.
My daughter stood in our backyard holding her favorite yellow bicycle.
Her smile nearly broke me.
"I want to see her," I whispered.
Renee nodded.
"She's asking every day."
I looked at her.
"Can she come tomorrow?"
Renee smiled.
"I'll ask the hospital."
I held the photograph against my chest.
Then Renee sat beside me.
"Naomi, there's something else."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Marcus called me."
I looked up sharply.
"When?"
"An hour ago."
"What did he want?"
"He asked whether I'd spoken to your lawyer."
I swallowed.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing useful."
I almost smiled.
Renee continued.
"Then he asked if you remembered anything about the day you collapsed."
My blood turned cold.
"He asked that?"
She nodded.
"He sounded nervous."
I stared at the blanket.
Of course he was nervous.
He didn't know what I remembered.
He didn't know about the nurse-call button.
He didn't know how much evidence we had found.
At least, I hoped he didn't.
Renee squeezed my hand.
"Naomi, promise me something."
I looked at her.
"What?"
"Don't go back to that house alone."
I nodded.
"I won't."
The next morning, Grace arrived with Renee.
The moment my daughter saw me, she ran toward the bed.
"Mommy!"
I opened my arms.
She climbed carefully beside me.
I held her so tightly that I started crying.
Her hair smelled like strawberry shampoo.
Her little hands gripped my hospital gown.
She was real.
She was safe.
And she was here.
"I missed you," she sobbed.
I kissed her forehead.
"I missed you more."
She pulled back.
"Are you coming home?"
My heart tightened.
"Soon, sweetheart."
She looked worried.
"To our house?"
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Eventually."
Grace studied my face.
"Are you and Dad fighting?"
I took a breath.
"Your father and I have some serious things to work through."
She looked down.
"Did I do something wrong?"
My heart shattered.
"No."
I held her face gently.
"Never think that."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I heard Dad say everything was my fault."
I froze.
"What?"
Grace looked frightened.
"He was talking to Vanessa."
My stomach tightened.
"What did he say?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered.
"He said if you hadn't insisted on keeping the house for me, none of this would have happened."
I stared at her.
Keeping the house for Grace.
Of course.
My mother's property wasn't just mine.
I had planned to leave it to my daughter.
Marcus knew that.
And he hated that the house would never become something he could control.
Grace continued.
"Vanessa said they needed to fix the problem before you woke up."
My heart pounded.
I tried to keep my voice gentle.
"Sweetheart, when did you hear that?"
"The night before you got sick."
My entire body went cold.
The night before.
Not after.
Before.
I looked toward Renee.
Her face was pale.
Grace began crying.
"Mommy, am I in trouble?"
I pulled her close.
"No, baby."
I kissed her hair.
"You did nothing wrong."
But inside, my thoughts were racing.
Marcus and Vanessa had talked about me not waking up before I collapsed.
They had changed an insurance policy.
They had tried to move my money.
They had arranged to transfer me away from the hospital.
And now my daughter had heard them discussing the problem before anything happened.
I looked at Renee.
She understood immediately.
"We need to tell Angela."
I nodded.
"Yes."
Then Grace whispered something against my shoulder.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"There's something else."
I closed my eyes.
"What?"
She looked toward the door.
Then back at me.
"I saw Vanessa put something in your water."
May you like
My heart stopped.
And suddenly, the memory of that strange bitter taste wasn't a mystery anymore.
