part 3
A woman stepped in, immaculate in a charcoal coat, her silver hair twisted into a knot at the back of her head. Her face was familiar from business magazines and company holiday videos, though I had never seen her in person.
Vivian Vance.
Liam’s mother.
She glanced first at him, then at me, and finally at the blue paper flower in his hand.
Her expression changed so quickly I might have missed it if I had blinked.
Fear.
Not surprise. Not confusion.
Fear.
“Liam,” she said smoothly. “Your driver said there was an incident.”
He did not stand.
“There was.”
Her smile was polished enough to cut glass.
“I assume she’ll be compensated appropriately. These late-night accidents can become unpleasant if handled poorly.”
My stomach turned.
To her, I was not a person in a hospital bed. I was a liability.
Liam’s hand closed tighter around the flower.
“Do you recognize this?” he asked.
Vivian’s eyes flicked to it.
Only for a second.
“No.”
Liam watched her.
“You’re lying.”
The room went colder than the snow outside.
Vivian’s smile faded.
“Careful.”
It was one word, but it carried a lifetime of command.
For the first time since I had known of him, Liam Vance did not obey.
“This flower belonged to the woman who saved my life.”
Vivian said nothing.
“Her daughter works in my design department,” he continued. “Her daughter collapsed tonight from exhaustion inside my company.”
Vivian looked at me again, and something unreadable passed over her face.
Then she sighed.
Not with guilt.
With annoyance.
“Sentiment has always been your weakest trait,” she said.
Liam rose slowly.
“My weakest trait?”
“You were missing for fourteen hours,” Vivian said. “The press almost found out. Your father was negotiating the Weston merger. We could not afford the appearance of negligence.”
I stared at her, unable to breathe.
Liam’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“So you knew where I had been.”
Vivian adjusted one leather glove.
“Eventually.”
“And you knew who found me.”
“She was paid.”
The words struck the room like a gunshot.
My fingers curled into the blanket.
“What?” I whispered.
Vivian looked mildly irritated that I had spoken.
“Your mother was given money for her trouble.”
“No,” I said. “She wasn’t.”
“Then she refused it,” Vivian replied. “Some people enjoy martyrdom.”
Liam stepped toward her.
“How much did she know?”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed.
“Enough to become inconvenient.”
My heart began to pound.
“What does that mean?”
Liam did not look away from his mother.
“Answer her.”
Vivian gave a soft laugh.
“You want ugly truths in front of a staff employee?”
“She has a name.”
The words came instantly.
Emma.
It was only my name, yet hearing him defend it made my throat tighten.
Vivian studied him for a long moment. Then she looked at the blue flower again, and her voice turned quiet.
“Martha Hale saw something that night.”
The medical machine beside me kept beeping steadily, cruelly normal.
“What did she see?” Liam asked.
Vivian’s face revealed nothing.
“Your father’s car.”
Liam froze.
“He had not been home,” she continued. “He was not searching for you. He had been leaving the estate when you ran out into the storm. Martha saw him pass you on the road.”
Liam’s face drained of color.
“That’s impossible.”
“She recognized the car from the newspapers. The driver slowed. Then continued.”
No one spoke.
The truth entered the room slowly, like poison.
His father had seen him.
May you like
His father had left him.
My mother had found what his own blood had abandoned.
