The Crimson Ink That Exposed A Family Legacy Of Lies
“I’m going to the hospital,” I said.
“I need to see my mother, and I need to find out where Evelyn Vaughan is.”
The rain was coming down harder now, drumming against the kitchen window.
I stepped out onto the porch, pulling my collar up against the cold wind.
The street was empty now, but I could feel the invisible threads of Daniel’s influence wrapping tighter around me.
I got into my station wagon and turned the key.
The engine sputtered before catching, the headlights flickering against the dark pavement.
As I drove through the wet city streets, my mind raced.
I had to find the nurse before Daniel’s lawyers realized she existed.
If they found her first, they would buy her silence just like they did with the clinic archives.
I parked in the hospital’s underground garage and took the elevator to the fifth floor.
The air in the intensive care unit smelled of bleach and copper.
The monitors beeped in a steady, metallic rhythm.
My mother lay in the center of the bed, her face pale and her breathing shallow.