Chapter 3 - The Signature on the Consent Form
They put a clipboard in front of me. Consent for surgery. Risks. Blood loss. Brain swelling. Words a husband should never have to read on the day of his mother's funeral.
"You can save her?" I asked.
Dr. Patel answered carefully. "We believe surgery gives her the best chance."
I signed. My hand shook so badly the last letter of my name slid off the line.
Jo brought Emma over. My daughter looked at the doors behind the surgeon.
"Is Mommy having a nap?"
"The doctors are fixing something that got hurt," I told her.
"Can they fix her fast?"
"They're trying."
Emma leaned against me. I held her with the arm I hadn't used to strike Mallory, as if that made a difference.
Detective Ortiz waited until Jo took Emma to get water.
"I need to ask about the cross," she said. "The necklace your sister mentioned."
"Mom wore a silver cross every Sunday. Dad gave it to her before I was born."
"Why was Claire wearing it?"
"Mom handed it to her at hospice three nights ago. I thought it was a goodbye gift."
"Did your sister know?"
I remembered Mallory at the funeral, looking not at my mother's casket but at Claire's throat.
"She knew by the end of the service."
Ortiz showed me a photograph taken by the responding officer. The chain was missing from Claire's neck. A faint red line ran across her collarbone.
"Did Grant touch her?" she asked.
"I didn't see."
"Your daughter may have. We won't press her tonight."
I nodded, grateful for that much mercy.
My phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number filled the screen.
YOU HIT YOUR SISTER. I HAVE VIDEO. GIVE BACK THE CROSS AND THIS STAYS IN THE FAMILY.
There was a photograph attached: me standing above Mallory with the second planter in my hands. It began after Claire had already fallen.
May you like
Under it was one more message.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MORNING.
