Chương 4
He looked at Chloe.
“After he grabbed your wrist, what happened?”
“I pulled away.”
“He blocked the bedroom door.”
“Then?”
“Sylvia came upstairs.”
“Did she touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My arm.”
Chloe stared toward the wall.
“She told me to stop acting insane.”
Her breathing quickened.
The monitor answered with a faster rhythm.
Dr. Patel slowed his voice.
“You’re safe here.”
Chloe nodded without looking at him.
“She said Marcus had worked too hard to let me destroy his career over a marriage that was already dead.”
“What did you do?”
“I tried to go around them.”
“And?”
“Marcus shoved me.”
I did not move.
“He shoved you where?”
“In the chest.”
“Did you fall?”
“I hit the dresser first.”
Her hand drifted toward her ribs.
“Then the floor.”
The nurse quietly wrote something down.
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Any vomiting?”
“No.”
“Memory gap?”
Chloe hesitated.
“Maybe.”
Dr. Patel looked at the nurse.
“We’re getting imaging.”
Then he turned back.
“What happened after you fell?”
“Sylvia picked up my laptop.”
“How?”
“It was on the bed.”
“She gave it to Marcus.”
“And your phone?”
“He already had it.”
“Did they return either item?”
“No.”
“What happened after that?”
Chloe pressed her tongue against her split lip.
“I stood up.”
“Were you dizzy?”
“Yes.”
“What did you try to do?”
“Leave.”
“Did they let you?”
“No.”
I finally spoke.
“How long were you kept there?”
She looked at the clock on the wall.
“I don’t know.”
“Roughly.”
“It was after ten when everything started.”
“And Marcus left you at the terminal before five.”
Dr. Patel glanced at me.
I stopped.
This was his examination, not mine.
Chloe noticed.
“Look at you behaving.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The nurse smiled despite herself.
Chloe did not.
“They made me stay downstairs.”
“Made you how?” Dr. Patel asked.
“Marcus stood by the front door.”
“Was it locked?”
“Yes.”
“Could you have gone out another door?”
“The kitchen door.”
“Did you try?”
“Sylvia was there.”
“Did she physically prevent you?”
“Once.”
“How?”
“She grabbed my hair.”
The room went utterly still.
I heard a cart squeaking in the hallway.
Someone in the next bay coughed.
Dr. Patel said, “Where did she pull you?”
“Backward.”
“Did you fall?”
“Against the table.”
“Did you strike your head?”
“I don’t know.”
He examined her scalp carefully.
“Any pain here?”
“Yes.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the nurse again.
“Add head CT.”
Chloe’s eye found mine.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re already prosecuting them.”
I sat back.
“I’m your mother right now.”
“You’re bad at only being one thing.”
That landed harder than she intended.
Or perhaps exactly as hard as she intended.
For years, I had believed keeping my former life separate had protected her from it.
Maybe it had only taught her that important parts of ourselves could be withheld if disclosure felt inconvenient.
“I probably am,” I said.
Dr. Patel continued.
“Eventually they brought you to the terminal?”
“Marcus did.”
“Did he give you a coat?”
“No.”
“Did you ask for one?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Chloe looked embarrassed.
That frightened me more than the bruises.
“What did he say?”
I asked softly.
“He said maybe being cold would teach me what happened when I made other people uncomfortable.”
I looked away.
Across the room, the nurse’s jaw tightened.
Dr. Patel asked, “Do you know where your missing shoe came off?”
“In the car, I think.”
“What happened?”
“I tried to get out when we stopped at a light.”
“He grabbed my ankle.”
She touched the bare foot beneath the blanket.
“My shoe came off.”
“Then?”
“He locked the doors.”
“Did he strike you in the vehicle?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“He said if I went to the police, he would tell them I attacked Sylvia.”
“Did you?”
“I pushed her.”
“When?”
“After she pulled my hair.”
“Good,” Dr. Patel said.
Chloe blinked.
He clarified.
“Good that you told me.”
She let out a breath.
“He also said Sylvia photographed the rug.”
“The Persian rug,” I said.
Chloe laughed once, painfully.
“That stupid rug.”
“What happened to it?”
“I bled on it.”
No one said anything.
Chloe’s voice became distant.
“My nose started bleeding when I hit the dresser.”
“So their five-thousand-dollar damage claim is your blood.”
“Yes.”
A knock came at the curtain.
Officer Ruiz entered with another officer, a woman in plain clothes who introduced herself as Detective Lena Park.
She did not rush toward Chloe.
She first spoke with Dr. Patel, then asked Chloe whether she felt able to answer questions later.
“Later,” Chloe said.
Park nodded.
“No problem.”
Then she looked at me.
“I need a word outside.”
In the hallway, she folded her arms.
“Officers are at the house.”
“And?”
“Your son-in-law let them inside the foyer voluntarily.”
That surprised me.
“He’s confident.”
“Or careful.”
“What did they see?”
“Enough to make things interesting.”
I waited.
Park watched my face before continuing.
“There are caterers inside, several guests have already arrived, and Mrs. Devereaux is apparently hosting as though nothing happened.”
“Sylvia.”
“Yes.”
“And Marcus?”
“Upstairs when officers arrived.”
My stomach tightened.
“Doing what?”
“He says showering.”
“What about the house?”
Park lowered her voice.
“One officer observed what appeared to be diluted reddish staining along the edge of a rug in the living room.”
“Blood.”
“Appeared to be.”
I nodded.
She appreciated the correction.
“And there’s more,” she said.
“What?”
“The rug isn’t in the living room anymore.”
I stared at her.
“It was removed while officers were there?”
“An employee of a cleaning company arrived through the side entrance and attempted to take it out.”
“Attempted?”
“The officers stopped him long enough to determine who instructed him.”
“Sylvia.”
Park’s expression told me I was wrong.
“Marcus.”
The distinction mattered.
May you like
Before I could respond, she added, “He also told officers his wife became violent after he confronted her about stealing confidential company records.”
For the first time that morning, the financial evidence moved from a secret between Chloe and me into the center of the fight.
