Holden nodded, even though his friend couldn’t see him. “Keep me updated.”
“Will do. You still staying with Clara?”
“She stayed with your mom last night. Any news on when Malcolm might wake up?”
“Not yet.”
“Doyouthink he did it to himself?”
There was a small pause. “I think he’s involved in whatever’s going on…but I think someone else is too. The woman who attacked Clara.”
Holden’s fingers tightened around the phone.
He hung up and turned to see Briar standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around her waist. “Was that Jesse Hayes?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he…I mean, is there an update on what will happen to Malcolm when he wakes up? Will he be arrested for murder?”
So everyone at the hospital just assumed it was Malcolm. “He didn’t say.”
Holden wouldn’t be sharing about the woman who’d attacked Clara, not when Briar worked with the two main suspects.
She nodded. “Everyone’s so upset by what happened.”
“I assume people have been talking about it at the hospital.”
“It’s allanyone’stalking about.”
He nodded slowly. “Helen and Deb weren’t close to Malcolm, were they?”
“They were friends. We’re all friends.”
Didn’t really tell him much. “I’ll probably be another hour here.”
“Not a problem. It looks great.”
“It does.”
She left the room and he got back to work. He was just heading back out to his truck to get the last few cabinet doorswhen her phone on the hall table lit up with a text. But it wasn’t the text that caught his attention—it was the background photo. It was a group of people from the hospital, but whatreallycaught his attention was the way she and Malcolm stood so close. His arm was around her waist, and everyone was looking at the camera except Briar…
She was looking straight at Malcolm.
A coma.Malcolm was in a coma.
Clara sucked in a sharp breath. It didn’t feel real. None of it did. It was like she was in a movie, but not a happy one.
The back door opened and her mother walked out onto the deck, two cups of chamomile tea in hand. “Here you go, honey.”
“Thank you, Mom. And thank you for letting me stay last night. I just needed to get out of the house.”
Her mother shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for coming over, Clara. This is your home too.”
Warmth filtered through her chest. This was exactly why she’d moved back to Amber Ridge when she’d gotten her diagnosis. Because this was home.
“How are you feeling?” her mother asked gently.
“Confused. I just want to know what’s going on. Who killed Scarlett? Did Malcolm hurt himself or did someone else do it? And mix that into my mess of a personal life.”
