Chapter 4 - The Final Performance
The day of the "surgery" arrived,
and the air was electric with tension.
Abigail arrived at the hospital at dawn,
carrying a briefcase.
Inside wasn't money,
but legal documents and a direct line to the District Attorney's office.
Spencer was being prepped for the operating room.
He looked triumphant,
barely able to contain his excitement.
“I’ll see you on the other side,
Mom,”
he said,
his voice full of fake bravery.
“I know you will,
Spencer,”
she replied,
kissing his forehead.
She felt a flicker of the old love,
a phantom pain for the child she once raised.
But then she remembered the voice on the speakerphone.
The love died,
replaced by a chilling resolve.
Dr. Thorne walked in,
looking professional in his surgical scrubs.
“It’s time,”
he said,
nodding to the nurses—who were actually undercover investigators Marcus had hired.
They wheeled Spencer down the hallway,
Abigail following closely behind.
As they reached the double doors of the surgical suite,
Abigail stopped.
“Wait,”
she said,
her voice ringing out in the quiet corridor.
Thorne turned,
frowning.
“Mrs. Riley,
we are on a strict schedule.”
“I forgot one thing,”
Abigail said,
opening her briefcase.
She pulled out a tablet and pressed play.
The sound of Spencer’s voice filled the hallway.
“If my mom thinks I’m dying,
she’ll give me every last dollar she has.”
The color drained from Spencer’s face.
He sat up on the gurney,
his "weakness" vanished in an instant.
“Mom?”
he stammered,
his eyes wide with terror.
“And this part is my favorite,”
Abigail said,
skipping the recording ahead.
“Everything ends up being about me.”
The nurses stepped forward,
but not to assist with surgery.
They pulled out badges.
“Dr. Thorne,
Spencer Riley,
you are under arrest for grand larceny,
medical fraud,
and conspiracy to commit insurance fraud,”
one of the investigators said.
Thorne tried to bolt,
but Marcus was waiting at the other end of the hall with two police officers.
The "doctor" was tackled to the floor,
his surgical mask falling off to reveal a face twisted in fury.
Spencer was frozen on the gurney,
looking like a trapped animal.
“Mom,
wait!”
he cried,
reaching out for her.
“It was just a joke!
I was in debt,
I didn't know what to do!”
Abigail walked up to the gurney,
looking down at the man she had sacrificed everything for.
“I was going to give you the world,
Spencer,”
she said,
her voice low and steady.
“I won twenty million dollars.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped,
his eyes darting to the briefcase.
“Twenty…
million?”
“But you’ll never see a cent of it,”
she continued.
“You lied about a terminal illness.
You let me watch you ‘die’ every day while you laughed at my grief.”
“I’m your son!”
he screamed as the officers pulled him off the gurney and cuffed his hands.
“No,”
Abigail said,
turning her back on him.
“My son died a long time ago.
You’re just a stranger who looks like him.”
She watched as they were led away in handcuffs,
their protests echoing through the sterile halls.
The hospital staff stood in shocked silence.
Abigail felt a strange lightness in her chest.
The weight of the lie had been lifted.
She walked out of the hospital,
the morning sun hitting her face.
She wasn't crying.
May you like
She was breathing.
She was free.
