Chapter 4 - THE MAN IN THE PARKING GARAGEThey locked down the hospital.
Police flooded the corridors.
Flynn found me twenty minutes later.
He was furious.
“Who came into your room?”
“Someone stole my toxicology file.”
His expression hardened.
“What file?”
“The one proving I was drugged.”
Flynn looked at Dr. Reed.
“Was anything else taken?”
“No.”
I watched Flynn carefully.
He looked shocked.
But I couldn't tell whether it was real.
Then Detective Mason returned.
“We found security footage.”
He placed a tablet on the bed.
A man in a dark coat appeared on screen.
He entered the hospital wearing a surgical mask.
He walked directly toward my floor.
Then the camera froze.
The footage cut out.
“Can you identify him?” Mason asked.
I shook my head.
“No.”
He paused the image.
“Look at the hand.”
I zoomed in.
A silver ring.
Black stone.
My heart stopped.
I had seen that ring before.
Selina's father wore one.
But her father had supposedly been dying at home.
He had been declared dead two days earlier.
I looked at Flynn.
He looked equally confused.
“Mabel?”
I pointed at the screen.
“I know that ring.”
Mason stiffened.
“Whose is it?”
“Selina's father.”
He glanced at his notes.
“Richard Cole.”
“He died.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
Mason looked at Flynn.
“Did you attend the funeral?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Selina didn't want me there.”
That answer sounded absurd.
I noticed it too.
Mason leaned closer.
“Do you know where the funeral was held?”
Flynn shook his head.
“No.”
“But you gave Selina $200,000 for her father's treatment.”
Flynn didn't answer.
Mason smiled coldly.
“Interesting.”
Then he left.
That night, Evelyn arranged for me to be moved to a private recovery facility outside the city.
Flynn followed.
I hated that he was still near me.
But the police had warned me.
Someone was targeting me.
At 1:47 a.m., I woke to a sound outside my room.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Then silence.
I reached for the call button.
The door opened.
Flynn stood there.
“It's me.”
I exhaled.
“What are you doing?”
“I heard something.”
“So did I.”
He closed the door.
“I want you to come home with me.”
“No.”
“Mabel.”
“I don't feel safe around you.”
That sentence destroyed him.
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he whispered:
“I know.”
I turned away.
He started to leave.
Then stopped.
“There is something I never told you.”
I looked back.
“What?”
“Selina and I were not lovers when you met me.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“We were engaged.”
I stared.
“You told me she was an old friend.”
“I lied.”
“When?”
“Before I met you.”
“Why?”
He looked ashamed.
“Because she disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“She vanished six months before our wedding.”
I remembered.
The mysterious photograph I had once found in his desk.
Flynn and Selina standing together.
But there was another person in the photo.
A man.
Tall.
Pale.
I had never known who he was.
I asked:
“Who was the man?”
Flynn froze.
“You saw that photograph?”
“Yes.”
He stepped toward the bed.
“That was her brother.”
“Richard had one daughter.”
“No.”
Flynn swallowed.
“He had two children.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Who was the other?”
Flynn looked at me.
“Jonathan.”
The name meant nothing.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
A photograph appeared.
It showed me standing in the hospital room three nights earlier.
Someone had taken it from the corridor.
Underneath was one sentence.
YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH THE TWINS.
I looked up.
Flynn saw the screen.
His face turned white.
“Give me the phone.”
I held it tighter.
“No.”
“Mabel, please.”
He looked terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
The phone vibrated again.
Another message.
This time there was no photograph.
Only six words.
ASK FLYNN WHO JONATHAN REALLY IS.
I looked at my husband.
He said nothing.
And that was when I realized something terrifying.
May you like
Flynn wasn't protecting Selina anymore.
He was protecting himself.
