Chapter 4: The Night Emily Died
For three years, Marcus had remembered his wife's death as a blur of fluorescent lights, hurried footsteps, and a doctor who couldn't look him in the eye.
Now, standing in his home office with Vanessa in the doorway, he realized there was one part of that night he had never questioned.
His wife had told him she was at home.
The hospital visitor log said otherwise.
And the woman who had just admitted that Emily wasn't supposed to die was looking at him as if he were the one who had done something wrong.
Marcus slowly placed his phone on the desk.
“What did you just say?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“I said you don't understand what happened.””
“No. You said Emily wasn't supposed to die.””
She looked toward the hallway, then closed the office door.
“Keep your voice down.””
Marcus stared at her.
“My son is downstairs, frightened of his own mother. I've just discovered you've been threatening him, and now I find out you lied about being at the hospital the night my first wife died. You don't get to tell me to lower my voice.””
Vanessa pressed her palms together.
“Emily was sick. She had been sick for months. You know that.””
“I know she had migraines. I know she was exhausted. I know she went to the hospital because she suddenly couldn't breathe.””
“And I know you weren't there when she needed you most.””
The accusation hit its mark.
Marcus's face tightened.
He had been in Chicago closing a deal when Emily was admitted. By the time his assistant reached him, the private jet had been delayed by a storm. He had called the hospital repeatedly, begging the nurses to let him speak to his wife.
He arrived too late.
Vanessa had told him that Emily had asked for him.
She had also told him that Emily's final words were about Noah.
Take care of our boy.
Marcus had carried those words like a promise ever since.
“Why were you there?”” he asked.
Vanessa sat on the edge of the desk chair.
“Emily called me.””
“Why?””
“She wanted to talk.””
“About what?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“You're going to hate me if I tell you.””
“I already don't know who you are.””
She looked up sharply.
“That is unfair.””
“Then give me the truth.””
For several seconds, she appeared to be deciding how much to reveal.
Finally, she said, “Emily knew about us.””
Marcus didn't move.
“About what?””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“About the friendship. About the fact that I was helping you with Noah. She thought I wanted to replace her.””
“Did you?””
“No!””
The answer came too quickly.
Marcus waited.
Vanessa looked away.
“Not then.””
The words landed like a confession.
Marcus took a step back.
“You were planning to marry me before my wife died?””
“No. I was trying to help you.””
“Help me?””
“You were falling apart, Marcus. You barely slept. You were working constantly, and Emily was getting worse. You needed someone.””
“And you decided that someone should be you?””
Vanessa rose.
“You're making it sound sinister because you need someone to blame!””
“I'm asking why you lied.””
She grabbed his wrist.
“Because Emily asked me to protect you.””
Marcus pulled away.
“Don't touch me.””
Vanessa's face crumpled, but the tears didn't stop her from speaking.
“She told me she had discovered something about her treatment. She thought someone had made a mistake. She was terrified, and she didn't want you to know until she understood what was happening.””
“What treatment?””
“I don't know.””
“Vanessa.””
“I swear to God, I don't know!””
Marcus studied her.
She was crying now, but he had watched her cry before. He had seen her produce tears when a waiter brought the wrong wine, when Brielle received a lower grade than expected, and when Marcus questioned an expense.
He no longer knew whether any of those tears had been real.
“What happened at the hospital?”” he asked.
Vanessa wiped her face.
“Emily asked me to bring her a folder from her car. She said it contained paperwork she needed.””
“What paperwork?””
“I never opened it.””
“Where is it?””
“I don't know.””
Marcus moved toward the door.
“I'm calling the police.””
Vanessa grabbed his sleeve.
“No!””
Her voice cracked through the room.
“Marcus, please. If you do that, you'll destroy everything.””
“What exactly am I destroying?””
She looked at him, trembling.
“Your understanding of Emily.””
For a moment, the room fell silent.
Then Marcus gently removed her hand.
“My understanding of Emily is not your property.””
He opened the door and walked downstairs.
Noah was sitting on the sofa, watching a cartoon with the volume turned almost all the way down. A bowl of macaroni and cheese rested on the coffee table, half-finished.
When Marcus entered, Noah immediately turned off the television.
“Dad?””
Marcus knelt in front of him.
“I'm here.””
“Are you mad at Mom?””
Marcus hesitated.
“I'm upset about some things she's done.””
Noah picked at the edge of his blanket.
“Is she going to leave?””
“I don't know.””
The boy's face fell.
Marcus took both his hands.
“But none of this is your fault. You don't have to fix anything. That's my job.””
Noah nodded, although his eyes remained worried.
“Can I sleep in your room tonight?””
“Of course.””
Marcus carried him upstairs, tucked him into the bed beside his own, and stayed until his breathing became steady.
Then he returned to the office.
Vanessa was gone.
Her suitcase had disappeared from the bedroom, too.
Marcus immediately checked the garage camera.
Her car was still there.
He called Daniel, his assistant, and asked him to contact the hospital's records department first thing in the morning. He also requested a copy of the full visitor log, all available medical documentation, and the names of the staff who had treated Emily that night.
Then he opened the unknown number's message again.
Ask your wife why she was at the hospital that night.
He typed a reply.
*Who are you?*
The response came almost immediately.
*Someone who promised Emily I'd protect Noah.*
Marcus's heart hammered.
*Did you know my wife?*
Three dots appeared, disappeared, and returned.
*I was the nurse who tried to warn her.*
Marcus leaned closer to the screen.
*Warn her about what?*
This time, the answer took nearly a minute.
*Your wife wasn't the only person who visited Emily that night. Someone changed her medication chart after the doctor left.*
Marcus felt cold spread through his chest.
*Who changed it?*
A photograph arrived.
It showed a hospital medication chart with a handwritten correction beside Emily's name.
At the bottom was a signature.
Marcus enlarged the image.
The signature belonged to a physician named Dr. Samuel Bennett, the senior consultant who had spoken to Marcus after Emily's death.
But the nurse's next message made the photograph seem almost irrelevant.
*That isn't the signature I saw him write.*
Marcus stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
*And the person who actually changed the chart was standing beside your wife when she stopped breathing.*
A final line appeared beneath it.
*Check the hospital's old staff photographs. Look at the woman standing behind Dr. Bennett.*
Marcus opened the photograph again.
In the reflection of the glass cabinet behind the doctor, a woman's face was barely visible.
May you like
He recognized the eyes immediately.
They belonged to Vanessa.
