Chapter 4 - Cordelia’s Perfect Distress
Cordelia Brooks knew how to look devastated.
Her trembling hand over her mouth.
Her voice breaking at the right syllable.
Her gold bracelets shaking like nerves.
Her eyes filling only when someone important looked at her.
She had practiced distress for years.
At charity events.
At family dinners.
At Julian’s school hearings.
At every moment Elena tried to say something that made the family look less polished.
Now, in the trauma bay, Cordelia wore grief like a costume.
But the mask slipped whenever she looked at Elena.
There was no tenderness there.
Only irritation.
A daughter on a hospital bed had become inconvenient.
An unconscious daughter was supposed to be easy.
This one had doctors refusing instructions.
This one had a nurse hovering too close.
This one had a body still fighting.
Cordelia leaned toward Elena and lowered her voice, forgetting Chloe was nearby.
“You always did this,” she whispered. “Always made everything harder.”
Elena’s finger twitched beneath the blanket.
Chloe’s hidden phone kept recording.
Cordelia turned toward Raymond.
“Make him listen.”
Raymond’s jaw hardened.
He pointed at Dr. Cole.
“We will hold you responsible if Julian loses time.”
Dr. Cole’s eyes sharpened.
“You are holding the wrong person responsible.”
Raymond’s face flushed.
For a second, his fist clenched at his side.
The doctor saw it.
The staff saw it.
Chloe saw it.
Elena heard the rustle of his movement and felt old fear crawl through her body.
Not childhood fear exactly.
Older than memory.
Deeper.
Then Dr. Cole stepped closer to the bed.
A physical wall.
Raymond stopped.
Cordelia looked at Elena again, and her face twisted with something close to hatred.
Not fear for a daughter.
Fear of a daughter surviving.
Elena’s finger pressed faintly against the phone.
Still recording.
Still here.
May you like
Still not expendable.
Read Chapter 5 👉 Because Cordelia’s act of grief broke whenever she forgot Elena might be listening.
