She winces. "I didn't kidnap you. I escorted you."
"And the 'fiancée' thing?" I gesture vaguely to her wrist with my IV hand. "Was that an escort service too?"
"That was... crisis management." She takes a breath, straightening her spine. It's an impressive physical reset, watching her transform from terrified hostage to professional handler in real time. "The nurse wouldn't let me back here. It was 'family only.' I needed to make sure you were okay before I left. I needed to know you weren't going to... you know."
"Die?"
"Sue," she corrects.
I let out a short, dry laugh that immediately punishes my bruised ribs. "Right. Because the best way to avoid a lawsuit is to impersonate a future spouse."
"It worked, didn't it?"
"Oh, it worked beautifully," I agree. "Nurse Ratched is currently updating my chart with my 'next of kin.' I imagine the hospital billing department is thrilled."
I try to sit up, gritting my teeth as the vertigo washes over me. I force it down through sheer will. I need to be vertical for this. I need to be the one looking down, not the one looking up.
"Phone," I demand, holding out my hand again.
Ivy hesitates. She glances at the black rectangle charging on the bedside table, then back at me. "You shouldn't. The doctor said screens are bad for?—"
"Ivy," I say, keeping my voice low and level. "Give. Me. The. Phone."
She picks it up and hands it to me with the reluctance of someone handing over a loaded weapon.
She's right to be worried.
I unlock the screen. The brightness stabs at my eyes, but I squint through it. There are fourteen missed calls. Six are from my mother. Four are from my assistant. Three are from my father.
And one email. Marked urgent. From the board of directors.
I open it.
Subject:Merger Timeline Update
Brooks,
I received a "courtesy call" from Royce Aston. As you know, he sits on the board at River Bend Memorial in addition to our own.
He tells me the ER intake flagged your admission this evening. He claims he was calling out of concern, but he was asking pointed questions about your sobrietyand mental state. Whispers of a 'collapse' are already circulating among the donors.
Is it drugs? A breakdown?
The board is spooked. Aston is already stirring the pot, asking if you're fit to lead the acquisition of the Holloway Group. We are moving the closing date to the end of the fiscal quarter. Labor Day.
We expect a clean bill of health and zero public scandals between now and then.
If the deal falls through because of your 'impulsive behavior,' we pull the funding.
— Dad.
I stare at the words.
Royce Aston. Of course. The man has been trying to snake my position for years, and now he has a direct line to my medical records. He didn't call my father to help; he called to plant the seed of doubt.
Is it drugs?
NotAre you in pain?NotDo you have brain damage?
