Chapter 4 - THE PUPPET MASTER
By morning,
the nurse was gone,
vanished into the night without a trace.
Vivian sat in the armchair across from the bed,
sipping tea as if nothing had happened.
“An unfortunate oversight,”
she said,
her voice as smooth as glass.
“The agency has been notified.”
“Oversight?”
I asked,
my voice shaking with fury.
“She was trying to kill him,
Vivian.”
“Someone in this house paid her to change that bag.”
Vivian set her teacup down with a sharp click.
“Be careful where you point your accusations,
child.”
“This is a family of high stakes.”
“Mistakes happen when there is so much to gain.”
She looked at Ethan,
who was staring at the ceiling,
his face a mask of stony silence.
“He needs to be stronger,”
she said,
almost to herself.
“The board meeting is in two weeks.”
“If he isn't sitting in a chair,
lucid and signing,
Jason will take the chair.”
“Jason?”
I asked,
though I already knew the answer.
“He’s the next in line,”
Vivian explained.
“And he’s impatient.”
“He’s been spending Ethan’s money like it’s his own for nine months.”
“He won't give it back without a fight.”
I looked at Ethan and saw a vein pulsing in his forehead.
He was listening to every word,
the rage building inside him.
Vivian stood up and smoothed her skirts.
“You will be his shield,”
she told me.
“You will taste his food,
you will check his medicine,
and you will sleep in that chair.”
“If anything happens to him,
your father’s debts will be the least of your worries.”
She left the room,
leaving the threat hanging in the air.
I turned to Ethan,
who was looking at me now.
“I guess we're in this together,”
I said,
trying to find a smile.
He blinked once.
“I don't trust them,”
I whispered,
leaning close to his ear.
“Not even her.”
He moved his hand,
pointing a trembling finger toward the bedside table.
I looked and saw a small,
silver pen.
I picked it up and handed it to him,
but he couldn't hold it.
It fell to the floor with a clatter.
He looked devastated,
his eyes filling with tears of frustration.
“It’s okay,”
I said,
picking it up.
“We’ll find another way.”
I went to my bag and pulled out a notebook.
I wrote the alphabet in large,
clear letters.
“Point to the letters,”
I suggested.
Slowly,
painfully,
his finger moved.
T...
R...
A...
S...
H...
He stopped,
exhausted.
“Trash?”
I asked.
He shook his head no.
T...
R...
A...
I...
T...
O...
R...
My heart stopped.
“Traitor?”
May you like
He blinked once,
his gaze moving toward the door where Jason had been standing.
