Chapter 3 - The Visit of the Vultures
On the third day,
the door to my room swung open,
and the scent of expensive lilies filled the air before Vanessa even stepped inside.
She was dressed in a silk suit,
her engagement ring catching the harsh fluorescent light like a predatory eye.
Our parents followed her,
their faces masks of practiced concern that didn't reach their eyes.
“Oh,
Lena,
you look dreadful,”
Vanessa cooed,
placing a bouquet on my bedside table.
“We were so worried,
but the doctors said you’re just being...
fragile again.”
My mother leaned over me,
her hand cold as she smoothed my hair.
“We’ve spoken to the hospital board,
honey,”
she whispered.
“We’re going to move you to a private facility,
somewhere quiet,
where we can take care of you properly.”
I knew what that meant—a place where the police couldn't reach me,
a place where the "care" would finally be fatal.
“I’m staying here,”
I said,
my voice a low,
dangerous rasp.
Vanessa laughed,
that same bright,
chilling sound from the staircase.
“Don't be difficult,
Lena.
You’ve already caused enough of a scene at the party.”
“Grant is furious,
and the wedding is in two weeks.”
“We can’t have you making these wild accusations against your own sister.”
I reached under my pillow and pulled out the voice recorder,
the red light glowing like a warning flare.
“I have the MRI results,
Vanessa,”
I said,
watching her smile falter for the first time.
“I have the surgical steel fragment.”
“I have the bank records from fourteen years ago.”
My father’s face went pale,
his eyes darting to the door.
“Lena,
let’s talk about this as a family,”
he stammered.
“There are things you don’t understand,
financial pressures...”
“I understand perfectly,”
I interrupted,
the fury finally boiling over.
“You sold my health to save your status.”
“And Vanessa tried to finish the job because she’s bored of waiting for the insurance payout.”
Vanessa stepped closer,
her eyes narrowing into slits.
“You have nothing,”
she hissed.
“It’s your word against ours,
and you’re just the jealous,
unbalanced sister.”
“Who will believe a forensic accountant over the Hales?”
I smiled,
a cold,
empty expression.
“The State Attorney General will,”
I said.
“I sent the file an hour ago.”
May you like
The room went deathly silent,
the only sound the frantic beating of my own heart.
