Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Remembered
The next morning, Nora took the hospital records to court. The judge issued a temporary order against transferring or clearing Mom's property. It didn't prove who forged the signature, but it stopped the moving truck.
Ortiz found someone else willing to talk: Teresa Flores, the aide who had helped Mom during her final month at home.
Teresa met us outside St. Luke's. She kept looking over her shoulder.
"Evelyn told me they wanted the house," she said. "She wouldn't let Mallory bring Grant inside after April."
"Why didn't you call police?" I asked.
"Your mother asked me not to. She said Mallory was drowning in debt and she wanted to give her one chance to fix it. I thought Evelyn had more time."
I understood that terrible mistake. I'd spent years making excuses for Mallory because she'd always been the kid who needed rescuing.
Teresa handed Ortiz printed screenshots of messages Mom had sent her.
I DID NOT SIGN THE TRANSFER.
PLEASE DON'T LET GRANT INTO THE PANTRY.
"Why the pantry?" Ortiz asked.
Teresa shook her head. "I don't know."
In the ICU, Claire had opened her eyes for a few seconds, then fallen asleep again. Dr. Patel called it an encouraging sign, not a promise.
I took Claire's hand. "You saved Emma. Now it's our turn to help you."
Her fingers moved against mine. I leaned closer.
"Claire?"
Her lips barely formed a word. I brought my ear beside her mouth.
"Key," she breathed.
"What key?"
"Cross."
I felt the air leave my chest. She tried to say more, but her eyes shut and her breathing deepened.
May you like
I called Ortiz immediately.
"You need to bring the necklace," I said. "Mallory wasn't after the silver. There is something inside it."
