Chapter 8 - THE HOSPITAL NIGHT
The worst memories of Laura’s final night came back as fragments.
Rainwater dripping from my coat.
A doctor saying, “catastrophic injuries.”
Six-week-old Maisie sleeping against Anna’s chest while I signed forms I could barely see.
Laura connected to machines.
Her face too still.
I remembered holding her hand.
I remembered telling her I was there even though nobody could tell me whether she could hear me.
I did not remember Corinne.
Because at the time Corinne Vale did not exist in my life.
But she had been in the same hospital.
Rachel found the access log first.
Then a visitor note.
A woman described as “friend of patient” requested ICU information shortly after two in the morning.
We located the nurse who wrote it.
Karen Willis still worked at St. Matthew’s.
We met her in a quiet hospital office.
Rachel placed three old photographs on the table without identifying anyone.
Karen immediately touched Corinne’s picture.
“That’s her.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
“You’re certain?”
“The eyes.”
“What about them?”
“She was angry. Not crying. Angry.”
Karen remembered Corinne claiming she had information for Laura’s husband.
Me.
“She asked to enter the ICU.”
“Did she?”
“No. She wasn’t family.”
Relief came so hard I almost felt sick.
No secret bedside attack.
No hidden access to Laura’s room.
But Karen was not finished.
“She kept asking about the baby.”
I stared.
“What baby?”
Karen’s expression softened.
“Your daughter, I assume. She asked, ‘Is the baby here with him?’”
My chair moved backward under me.
Maisie had been forty feet away.
Six weeks old.
Corinne had been looking for her.
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing.”
“What happened next?”
“Security escorted her downstairs.”
“Did she leave?”
“I assumed so.”
Hospital parking records showed a vehicle exiting twenty-three minutes later.
Registered to Evelyn Vale.
Corinne’s mother.
Corinne’s attorney finally stopped denying she had been there.
New explanation:
Daniel had called Corinne after hearing about Laura’s accident. Corinne feared Northcrest records might be inside Laura’s vehicle. She went to the hospital hoping to speak to me.
Daniel denied calling.
Phone records proved he was telling the truth.
There was no call between them that night.
There was, however, a call to Corinne at 1:48 a.m. from a prepaid number.
Before we could identify it, something else arrived.
The brokerage records.
Corinne’s account.
$276,000 in Northcrest funds had entered it over several months.
Not Daniel’s account.
Not an unknown shell company.
Corinne’s.
Some of the money paid debt.
Some helped purchase a condo.
The remainder went into investments.
I requested one controlled meeting.
Rachel did not like the idea.
I insisted.
Corinne sat across from me again.
I placed the brokerage statement between us.
“You said you never received money.”
She stared at it.
Then she shrugged.
“That was years ago.”
For some reason, the shrug enraged me more than a confession would have.
“You stole from Laura.”
“I was owed.”
“For what?”
“Keeping her company functioning while she collected millions from a sale.”
“So you decided to pay yourself?”
“She would never have given me what I deserved.”
“And when she found out?”
Corinne’s jaw tightened.
“She humiliated me.”
“And when she was dying, you went to the hospital.”
Corinne froze.
Rachel turned sharply toward me. I had not been supposed to reveal that yet.
Too late.
I leaned closer.
“You were there.”
Corinne recovered quickly. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to tell you the truth.”
“You had never met me.”
“I knew enough about you.”
Cold moved through me.
“What does that mean?”
Corinne stood.
Her lawyer stood with her.
I did not.
I simply looked up at the woman who had slept beside me for almost a year.
Corinne buttoned her blazer.
Then she said, “You keep asking why I hated Laura.”
“I’m listening.”
“She wasn’t the woman you think she was.”
I almost laughed.
“That line isn’t going to save you.”
“No.”
Corinne looked directly into my eyes.
“But the thing Laura did might destroy what’s left of her in your head.”
Then she walked out.
I wanted to follow her.
Rachel stopped me.
“Don’t.”
“She’s lying.”
“Maybe.”
“You think Laura did something?”
Rachel looked at the files.
“I think Laura was human.”
The next morning she called me before seven.
“Ethan, I found what Corinne was talking about.”
I sat upright.
“What?”
May you like
A long pause.
“Laura did hide something during the company sale.”
