PART TWO — THE WOMAN INSIDE THE BODY
“Don’t move, Mom. I already called for help.”

Leo’s breath warmed my cheek for one fleeting second.

Then Marcus seized him by the shoulder.

“What did you just say?”

Leo straightened, but I could feel him trembling beside the bed.

“I said I want Mom to wake up.”

Marcus stared at him, searching his face for deception. My husband had always underestimated children. He believed fear erased intelligence, that a loud enough voice could turn truth into obedience.

He had never understood our son.

Victoria stepped closer. “Who did you call, Leo?”

“No one.”

“You mentioned Ms. Lawson.”

“She’s my school counselor.”

The lie was imperfect. Leo’s school counselor was named Mrs. Lawrence, not Ms. Lawson. Marcus knew that. I heard the suspicion sharpening his breathing.

He tightened his grip.

“You’re going to tell me exactly what you did.”

“Let go of me.”

The words stunned everyone in the room—including me.

My sweet, gentle boy had never spoken to his father that way.

Marcus bent until their faces were level. “You seem to have forgotten who takes care of you now.”

“My mom does.”

“Your mother is practically dead.”

My finger twitched again.

This time I forced it.

Pain exploded from my wrist to my shoulder, but I moved it enough to brush Leo’s palm.

He immediately covered my hand with both of his, hiding the motion.

Marcus noticed nothing.

Victoria did.

Her breathing stopped.

For one terrible second, I knew she had seen me.

She leaned over the bed, studying my face. Her perfume—jasmine and amber—filled my nose. It was the same perfume she had worn at my wedding, when she had hugged me and whispered that no woman in the world deserved happiness more than I did.

“Valerie?” she murmured.

I let my body fall utterly still.

Her fingers touched my eyelid.

Before she could lift it, the door handle rattled.

Marcus spun around.

A nurse’s voice came from the hallway. “Mr. Blackwood? Why is this door locked?”

May you like

Marcus released Leo and unlocked it.

Nurse Elena entered carrying a medication tray. She was in her early forties, with tired brown eyes and a badge decorated with tiny sunflowers. I remembered her voice from the darkness. She was the nurse who had washed my hair, rubbed lotion into my cracked hands, and spoken to me as though I were still human.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said smoothly. “Leo became emotional. I didn’t want him running into the hallway.”

Elena glanced at my son.

A red imprint was already forming on his shoulder.

Her eyes hardened. “Visiting hours are over for minors.”

“I’m his father.”

“And this is an intensive neurological care unit.”

Victoria placed a hand against her chest. “We are preparing to say goodbye. Surely you can show some compassion.”

Elena looked at the medication tray, then at my IV.

“What happened to the infusion rate?”

Silence.

Marcus’s voice turned colder. “What do you mean?”

“This sedative was set at four milligrams per hour when I left.”

She leaned toward the pump.

“It’s at seven.”

My mind screamed.

Seven.

They had not merely been waiting for me to die.

Someone had been keeping me buried inside my own body.

Marcus looked at Victoria.

Victoria looked toward the door.

“I didn’t touch it,” Marcus said.

Elena immediately pressed a button on the wall. “I need Dr. Patel in Room 614.”

Marcus stepped between her and the bed. “Dr. Harlow is Valerie’s attending specialist.”

“Dr. Harlow changed shifts three hours ago.”

“He told me he was coming back.”

As if summoned by the lie, the door opened.

Dr. Stephen Harlow entered with a silver-haired man carrying a leather briefcase.

The notary.

Harlow barely glanced at the medication pump. “There appears to have been a misunderstanding.”

Elena faced him. “Her dosage has nearly doubled.”

“I authorized an adjustment.”

“There’s no order in the system.”

“I haven’t entered it yet.”

“You increased a comatose patient’s sedative without documenting it?”

Harlow’s face tightened.

The silver-haired man cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should return at another time.”

“No,” Marcus said quickly. “We’re handling this today.”

He pulled several documents from the notary’s briefcase.

I recognized the top page.

Durable power of attorney.

Beneath it was an authorization granting Marcus control over my companies, my real estate, my personal trusts, and every account bearing my name.

The papers I had refused to sign before my brakes failed.

“She can’t execute legal documents,” Elena said.

“She doesn’t have to sign,” Marcus replied. “A thumbprint is legally acceptable under these circumstances.”

The notary recoiled. “That is not what you told me.”

“I told you my wife had limited motor control.”

“You said she was conscious.”

Marcus smiled without warmth. “Then let us determine that she is not.”

Dr. Harlow removed a small flashlight from his pocket and approached me.

He lifted my eyelid.

White light burned into my skull.

I wanted to cry out. I wanted to bite his hand. Instead, I stared beyond him, forcing my gaze to remain unfocused.

“Pupillary response remains minimal,” he announced.

Elena stepped beside him. “Her left pupil just tracked the light.”

“A reflex.”

“It followed your hand.”

“A reflex,” he repeated sharply.

Leo moved closer to the bed.

“Ask her something.”

Marcus glared at him. “Be quiet.”

“Ask her something only she knows.”

Dr. Harlow turned toward my IV port. “The patient needs to remain calm.”

He picked up a syringe from Elena’s tray.

A clear liquid gleamed inside it.

Something primal surged through me.

He was going to push me under again.

Perhaps this time I would never return.

I gathered every fragment of strength left inside my body—the nights Leo had fallen asleep on my chest, the mornings he had crawled into my bed, the way he called me from school whenever his stomach hurt because my voice made him feel safe.