“Chin up,” Hunter tells me. “Don’t let her see you weak.”
My gaze shifts up to his, and I arch a brow, a deep curiosity booming through me, and he simply shrugs again. “I come from a long line of lawyers, and I’m nothing but a measly SWAT officer who gets shot at every day. Trust me, I know a thing or two about dealing with shitty parents.”
I grin. “Remind me to dive deeper into that childhood trauma when we get back down in the morgue.”
Hunter scoffs and folds himself into one of the uncomfortable chairs lining the hallway. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”
I can’t help but laugh. Knight would be proud of him, keeping his focus on the task at hand and not allowing me to distract him with irrelevant bullshit to pass the time. He’s the perfect little soldier.
Putting his advice into practice, I hold my chin up high and remind myself that I’m here for one reason, and one reason only, and just like Hunter, I won’t allow myself to get lost in somebody else’s bullshit drama. With my new resolve, I suddenly feel a wave of bravery crashing through me, and I reach for the door before stepping straight into the room, not bothering to knock.
Mom sits up in bed, and despite the cuts and bruises covering her face, she wears a full face of makeup along with her most expensive jewelry, which raises the question: How the hell did she get them? Does she have some poor pool boy running errands for her? Or is this the doing of her friend’s husband? Her hair has been perfectly blown out, her nails manicured, and all I can do is gape. How the hell did she manage this bullshit? She has a private room with her own little bathroom. She could have easily spent the last few hours chilling in there while focusing on her vanity, but the nails? That’s a professional job. Surely she requested her nail technician to visit her here. But more than that, who the hell is she trying to impress? We’re in a hospital, for fuck’s sake.
“Mother,” I say, striding deeper into the room.
“Oh,” she says, feigning shock. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I assumed you were still busy having one of your little tantrums.”
I blow out a breath as I collect the chart off the end of her bed, scanning over the details and seeing nothing that particularly interests me. From a brief glance, it appears she’s doing just fine, and considering the effort it would have taken for her to give herself a blowout, I’d dare say she’s recovering well. Not that I care, of course.
“I am not here to—”
“What is the horrendous smell?” Mom questions, cutting me off as she sneers at me.
“I work in a morgue, Mom. It smells literally like death,” I say. “What were you expecting? Flowers and unicorns?”
She scoffs, turning her nose up in disgust. “Why are you here, Harper?” she questions, the deep disdain not lost on me. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me, apart from physically stealing the baby right out of my womb.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes, not allowing her to bait me like she usually does. “I’ve come only to get an update on the baby,” I say, flicking through the chart to find the information for the baby, only there’s nothing here. They must have it at the nurses’ station. “Have you had an ultrasound yet? Checked the fetal heartbeat? How is she doing?”
Mom arches her brow and remains silent for a moment before finally glancing away, her stare focused heavily out the window as a somber expression flickers across her face, a heavy sadness in her eyes. “What? All your little doctor friends haven’t told you?”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” I remind her. “They’re legally bound by law to not tell me anything.”
“Oh,” she says, her gaze falling to her hands. “Well, then, you shouldn’t have bothered wasting your time coming to check on me. The baby didn’t make it. We lost the heartbeat late last night. I suppose she wasn’t strong enough to handle the stress of Elias’s attack, the surgery, and the uterine bleed. It was too much strain on her little heart.”
“Oh, umm . . .” I pause, placing the chart back on the end of the bed, as a brokenness begins to plague me. That was my baby sister, and while I never had the chance to meet her, I’d become very fond of the idea of loving her unconditionally.
Stepping closer, I drop down into the armchair beside Mom’s bed as a loud silence fills the air around us, the weight of the situation resting heavily on my shoulders. “She’s really gone?” I ask Mom, feeling helpless . . . lost.
“Yes, sweetheart,” she murmurs, dropping the typical Mae Slater attitude and having a real conversation for the first time inher life. “She’s gone, but perhaps it was for the best. Like you’ve pointed out your whole life, I’ve never been a good mother. I’ve always cared more for materialistic things than providing a good life for my children. Sure, with Elias, I could have given her a beautiful home. She never would have wanted for anything. Designer outfits. Dance classes. A horse, if she wanted it, all the things I wasn’t able to provide for you when you were just a girl. But in all seriousness, I never could have loved her more than I love myself. Call me selfish if you must, but I’m just not wired with that maternal instinct that most women are born with. She would have had a miserable life with me as her mother.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say, the grief tightening around my chest and making it hard to breathe as my eyes begin filling with tears. “I was looking forward to having a sister.”
“Yes, you made that quite clear,” she says, the hostility creeping back into her tone. “But I suppose we can just move on now. Pretend as though it didn’t happen and focus on rebuilding with Elias.”
It’s like having a bucket of ice water tipped over my head. “You still intend to go back to him?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks, making the anger well up in my chest, and fuck it, I can’t do Hunter proud anymore. Mom can more than see the crack breaking through my indifferent mask. “He’s my husband, and whether you like it or not, I made a vow to stay by his side in sickness and in health. He’s just sick at the moment, and he’s either going to get better, or he’ll be taken away, but when that happens, his ring will still be on my finger.”
“Why not just divorce him? He’s a billionaire. I’m sure he’ll offer you a healthy settlement.”
“A settlement? You want me to take some measly settlement when I could have it all?” She looks at me as though she barely even recognizes me. “How do you not see the bigger picture here?”
“And how do you not see that Elias would sooner kill you with his bare hands than allow you to take his fortune out from under him? You’re a bigger fool than I ever anticipated if you think he’s about to let that happen.” I let out a heavy sigh and get to my feet, shaking my head. “You know what, Mom? Every time I start to think that maybe there’s even a shred of human decency inside that cold heart of yours, you go and prove me wrong.”
I make my way over to the door, stopping and glancing back at her. “I came only to check on the baby, and now that there’s no longer a baby to check on, I suppose there’s no reason for me to bother coming back,” I tell her, reaching for the handle. “I hope you and Elias are very happy together with your piles of money and your broken ribs.”
Making my way back out to the hallway, I close the door behind me and immediately collapse against it, the overwhelming grief finally breaking free as tears begin streaking down my cheeks.
