Chapter 5 - The Man Outside the DoorI froze.
“Don’t open it,” Noah had warned.
But Grant spoke again.
“Emma, please.”
The emergency lights flickered on.
His face appeared through the narrow glass panel.
He looked terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
I moved toward the door.
“No.”
The nurse grabbed my arm.
“He could be armed.”
Grant shook his head.
“I’m not here to hurt her.”
Noah stepped between us.
“You have thirty seconds.”
Grant stared at him.
“I know who Evan is.”
Noah’s face hardened.
“You always have.”
“No.”
Grant lowered his voice.
“I knew who he was.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I thought he was dead.”
Silence.
Noah stepped closer.
“Who killed him?”
Grant looked at me.
“I didn’t.”
“Then who?”
Grant swallowed.
“Your mother.”
My world tilted.
“No.”
“She was involved.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I was.”
He pulled a flash drive from his pocket.
“Everything is on this.”
Noah took a step toward him.
Grant continued.
“Money transfers. Shell companies. Names.”
“And you?”
Grant looked at me.
“Yes.”
The word landed like a gunshot.
“I was part of it.”
My throat tightened.
“What did you do?”
“I moved money.”
“How much?”
Grant didn’t answer.
“Answer me.”
“Forty-two million.”
My legs nearly gave out.
The room was silent except for my daughter crying.
“And Evan?”
“He found out.”
“What happened?”
Grant closed his eyes.
“Your mother convinced me to help her scare him into leaving.”
Noah’s fist clenched.
“But he never left,” Grant said.
“He disappeared.”
Grant nodded.
“We thought he drowned.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
Grant looked toward the dark hallway.
“Vanessa.”
I felt sick.
“So you and Vanessa have been hiding this for ten years?”
“No.”
He looked at me desperately.
“We’ve been running from it.”
Suddenly glass shattered somewhere down the hall.
A gunshot followed.
Everyone dropped.
Noah pulled his weapon and moved toward the door.
Detective Reed shouted into his radio.
Then Grant grabbed the edge of my bed.
“Emma, you have to leave.”
“No.”
“They’re here.”
“Who?”
He looked at my daughter.
“Your mother’s people.”
My heart stopped.
Then the hospital alarms began screaming.
Noah looked at Grant.
“How did you know they were coming?”
Grant didn’t answer.
Noah’s eyes narrowed.
“You told them where she was.”
Grant shook his head.
“No.”
“Then how?”
Grant slowly looked at me.
“Because the baby was never supposed to survive.”
The room went silent.
I stared at my daughter.
“What does my baby have to do with any of this?”
Grant’s face collapsed.
“Everything.”
Before he could explain, the lights went black again.
And someone whispered from the hallway:
May you like
“Take the child.”
:::
