On the third night after my car accident, I lay perfectly still in a hospital bed, pretending I still hadn’t regained consciousness. I wanted to know whether my husband of seven years would stay if I became a burden—but then I heard him ask my doctor, “When can you remove her oxygen?” and suddenly I was terrified of the man sleeping beside me every night.

I handed the phone to Daniel without replying.

He immediately contacted the investigator and instructed me not to delete anything. The number could be spoofed, and the messages alone did not establish who had sent them. Still, the wording was too serious to ignore.

I spent that night at a location approved by the security consultant. Lily believed we were having a special sleepover, and I did everything I could to keep my fear from reaching her.

We ate pizza on the floor. She wore her pajamas inside out and laughed when I pretended not to know how to fix them.

For a few hours, I almost forgot what was happening.

Then, at 9:17 p.m., Ethan called through Daniel's office.

“Are you and Lily safe?”

“Yes.”

“Did you receive a threat?”

I froze.

“How do you know?”

“The investigator notified my attorney. I want to make sure you have everything you need.”

“We're safe.”

“I can send additional security.”

“Through Daniel. No one comes directly to us without approval.”

“Understood.”

His voice sounded controlled, but I could hear the fear beneath it.

“Claire, I'm sorry.”

“For the threat?”

“For putting you in a position where you're afraid to answer your phone. For letting Vanessa into our lives. For treating your questions like an attack.”

I closed my eyes.

“I can't comfort you about what you did to me.”

“I know.”

“Ethan—”

“I won't ask you to.”

He hung up before I could respond.

The next morning, investigators traced the message to a prepaid device purchased with cash. The phone had been activated near a commercial district where Vanessa had previously met Grant Mercer.

They still could not establish who had sent the threat.

Grant, meanwhile, had agreed to cooperate in exchange for consideration in his own case. He claimed Vanessa had told him that if I survived the crash, he should make sure I remained too frightened to return to Chicago.

He said he had refused to threaten me.

The investigator was skeptical but continued to verify his account.

Later that day, Marcus delivered a flash drive to Daniel's office. It contained copies of messages from a company account that Vanessa had used.

One conversation involved a person saved under the initials P.L.

The divorce will take care of the wife, Vanessa wrote.

The reply came minutes later.

And if he changes his mind?

He won't. He's already halfway out the door.

You said the accident would make things easier.

Vanessa's response was short.

It was supposed to.

The messages were disturbing, but their meaning was not completely clear. Investigators needed the original data and additional context before drawing conclusions about who knew what.

Daniel forwarded the material through the proper channels.

I stared at the screen.

The phrase the accident would make things easier repeated in my mind.

I had spent three nights lying motionless, terrified that Ethan wanted me gone.

Now the evidence suggested someone might have planned to use my accident to influence my marriage and Ethan's business.

I wondered whether I had been a target from the beginning or whether my injuries had simply created an opportunity for Vanessa to exploit.

Either way, the danger was real.

That evening, Ethan asked to speak with Lily by video call.

I agreed under the temporary arrangement.

Lily sat on my lap while her father appeared on the screen.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, sunshine.”