Chapter 6 - The Hospital Room
Lily’s hospital room overlooked the city.
Denver was waking beneath a pale winter sky.
Cars moved along wet streets.
People bought coffee.
Children carried backpacks toward school.
The world continued as though ours had not split open.
Doctors documented Lily’s injuries carefully.
A social worker named Hannah spoke with her.
I sat beside the bed holding the stuffed rabbit from the unopened package.
When I finally gave it to Lily, she stared at it for almost a minute.
“You sent this?”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“For you.”
Her eyes filled.
“Daddy said you forgot my birthday.”
My chest hurt.
“I could never forget your birthday.”
“He said you forgot me.”
I moved closer.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“I thought about you every single day.”
Her mouth trembled.
“Every day?”
“Every hour I could.”
She touched the rabbit’s ear.
“Did you come back because it’s my birthday?”
“I came back because I promised I would.”
She began crying quietly.
I held her until her body relaxed.
For the first time since I found her, she slept.
My phone vibrated.
Nolan.
I stepped into the hallway while keeping the door open.
“What did you find?”
“We cracked part of Grant’s recorder.”
“And?”
A pause.
“There are conversations with a man named Adrian Kessler.”
I knew the name.
Everyone in my unit knew it.
Kessler was a financial intermediary believed to move money for the criminal organization we had been investigating.
Grant had never met anyone connected to my work.
At least that was what I had believed.
“Nolan.”
“I know.”
“How long?”
“First recording is dated six months ago.”
Six months.
Long before my deployment.
Long before Vanessa moved into my house.
Long before Grant told me he was proud of me for accepting the assignment.
“What were they discussing?”
“You.”
I leaned against the wall.
“What about me?”
“Your schedule.”
“My travel.”
“Your access.”
“And whether your death during the operation would trigger the full life-insurance policy.”
I could not speak.
Nolan continued.
“Evelyn, Grant increased your policy eleven months ago.”
“I signed that.”
“You signed for two million.”
“Yes.”
“The current policy is twelve.”
I stared through the glass at Lily sleeping.
“I never approved twelve million dollars.”
“We know.”
My hand went cold around the phone.
“Forgery?”
“Looks like it.”
Another pause.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Grant made himself sole beneficiary.”
I closed my eyes.
“And Lily?”
“Removed.”
I looked through the window again.
My daughter slept hugging the rabbit I had sent from hundreds of miles away.
May you like
Grant had not just planned a life without me.
He had planned one without her too.
