Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Raised Him
Diane reached the hospital before Ryan did.
She entered with a florist's arrangement so large it blocked the doorway and a smile I had mistaken for kindness for six years.
“Poor thing,” she said. “What a dreadful accident.”
“Brianna hit me.”
Her smile slipped.
“Emma, my daughter gets emotional, but you know she'd never deliberately hurt those babies.”
“You weren't there.”
“That's why we shouldn't make permanent decisions based on feelings.”
She set the flowers beside my bed as though decorating could undo what happened.
Then she leaned close.
“Don't give the detective anything else. Ryan's career could suffer if this becomes public.”
I had played along because I thought peace was something everybody wanted.
Diane wanted silence, which was cheaper.
“I already told the detective the truth,” I said.
Diane's jaw tightened.
“Brianna's in real trouble. She thought Ryan had arranged temporary access to the children's money.”
“Ryan would never do that.”
“Then maybe you misunderstood him.”
I reached for the call button.
Diane caught my wrist—not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make her meaning clear.
“Think very carefully about tearing this family apart.”
A nurse appeared, saw her hand, and asked her to step away.
The nurse didn't smile either.
Later, the social worker explained that I could restrict visitors and designate who received medical updates.
I put Mrs. Alvarez and Ryan on the list.
I removed Diane and Brianna.
For the first time since marrying into their family, I didn't ask permission.
By evening, I could visit the twins.
Sophie lay under clear tubing, impossibly small beneath her knitted cap.
Lucas wrapped his entire hand around the end of my finger.
I whispered that I would be back.
At the nurses' station, two detectives were waiting for Ortiz.
They'd entered our house with a warrant.
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The recording hub was gone.
And according to the alarm log, somebody with a family access code had entered after the ambulance left.
