Chapter 16
“I’m not alone.”
David stepped forward.
“I’ll take you.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No. You’re with me.”
“I can call a cab.”
“I’ll take her,” Dr. Patel said.
I looked at her.
She had been the person who explained the diagnosis, the surgery, the risks. Her calm had become something I could lean against without feeling managed.
“Thank you,” I said.
Marcus’s eyes searched mine.
“Claire, I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
He took a breath.
“Lily’s aunt believed there was information missing from the records. She thought we had changed the timeline to protect the hospital. I spent months meeting with her, answering questions, reviewing the case. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to bring that grief into our house.”
“You brought the grief into our house anyway.”
He lowered his head.
“Yes.”
The truth of it was undeniable.
It had entered through every missed dinner, every sleepless night, every time he had stared into the dark instead of reaching for me.
I turned toward Dr. Patel.
“Is the woman dangerous?”
“No,” she said. “Not from anything I’ve seen. She is grieving and persistent. That does not make her dangerous.”
“Then why did she go to my daughter?”
Dr. Patel looked at Marcus.
“I don’t know.”
Neither did he.
That was the part that frightened me most.
Not the woman’s anger.
The fact that she had found our home.
I called Mrs. Alvarez again and asked her to lock the doors. Then I asked her to check the house with the police if she felt comfortable. She told me she would.
“I’m going home,” I said.
Marcus caught my hand.
“Wait.”
I turned.
His face was open now, stripped of the careful restraint he had worn for a year.
“There’s one more thing.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“What?”
“The woman’s name is Nora Bell.”
“Lily’s aunt?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know where you live?”
“She may have found it through public records.”
“Did she know about my mother?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then why did Emily say she told her that Grandma wanted her to help you?”
Marcus stared at the phone in my hand.
“I don’t know.”
The answer was honest.
It was also not enough.
We drove home in Dr. Patel’s car. Marcus remained at the hospital for the surgical team’s review, but he promised he would call every hour. I did not want him alone, and he did not want me driving while my hands were shaking.