Chapter4

I don't know how long it was before the door opened.

Brooke rushed in and dropped to her knees beside me, all concern.

"Oh my God, babe, are you okay? Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital."

I looked at that face, so full of worry, and all I could feel was how absurd it was.

"Brooke. Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?"

My voice cracked into pieces.

If I had to choose, I hated her more than I hated Julian.

We were roommates for four years. She was my best friend.

On move-in day freshman year, she showed up at our dorm with a beat-up suitcase, way short on tuition, planning to withdraw the next morning. I gave her half of my dad's life insurance money.

Sophomore year, at a party, some senior slapped her in front of everyone. I stepped in front of her and took the second one.

That night, she hugged my arm and said, "Hannah, we're going to be best friends forever."

Then she spent the next several years stabbing me in the back, over and over.

Brooke looked hurt.

"I was only trying to protect you. I just wanted to help you find a guy you could actually trust."

"Look, if it weren't for me, you'd have married a total piece of garbage. What if another girl like me comes along someday? Then what?"

I pushed her hands away, crying too hard to talk.

"You're not protecting me. You've been hurting me this whole time."

She blinked at me, all innocence.

"Okay, okay, it's all my fault. Let's just get you to the hospital, okay?"

I could barely stand. She half dragged, half carried me to the car.

We didn't go to the hospital. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of a hotel.

"Where are you taking me?"

She just smiled, helped me into the elevator, and tapped a key card against a door.

The room was empty. There was a crystal vase on the coffee table. In the corner, a phone on a tripod was recording.

Before I could process any of it, Brooke grabbed the vase and smashed it against her own forehead.

Blood ran down over her brow.

She shoved a piece of the broken vase into my hand, tore her own sleeve, and ran screaming for the door.

"Hannah, I'm sorry! I was wrong! I won't try to take him from you again! Please stop hitting me!"

I knew exactly what was happening. I pushed off the wall to grab her.

Before I could get my footing, someone kicked the door open.

Julian stood in the doorway. His eyes landed on the bloody shard of glass in my hand.

They went red.

He crossed the room and slapped me.

"Have you lost your mind, Hannah?"

"It's bad enough you won't admit what you did. Now you lured her here to get back at her? You want to ruin her?"

"It wasn't me!" I grabbed his sleeve. "Brooke opened the cellar. She's the one who brought me here!"

"Only you and I know the code to that cellar." He shook me off. "How could she possibly open it? You got yourself out, and then you tricked her into coming here."

His voice went cold.

"Fine. If your own safety isn't enough to make you back down, let's see if your mother's is."

"What are you going to do?"

He turned to the two security guys at the door.

"Cancel her mother's private care. Transfer her to the state facility tonight. Nobody stops it."

"No!"

I threw myself at his feet and grabbed his pant leg.

"I'll apologize! I'll apologize to Brooke! I'll say whatever you want! Please, don't touch my mom!"

"Too late."

He looked down at me. There was no warmth left in his voice.

"When Brooke wakes up and she's ready to forgive you, I'll think about your mother."

I looked at Brooke in his arms. Her eyelashes fluttered. Then she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Julian, please. Do whatever you want to me. Just don't touch my mom."

"Brooke, I've given you everything you wanted. Just leave us alone. Please."

All I got was his back as he walked away.

"Watch her. She doesn't leave this room until I get back."

The two security guys came in and took up posts on either side of the door. One of them held out his hand.

"Mrs. Ashford, I'll need your phone."

Before I handed it over, I used my last few seconds to text Rachel, who'd lived next door to us in college. She was a medical malpractice attorney at a Boston firm now.

"If anything happens to my mom, pull every record from Ashford Medical Center."

The second it said Delivered, the phone was taken out of my hand.

One hour. Two.

I sat on the carpet and told myself, over and over: maybe Brooke will wake up. Maybe this time she'll have a heart.

What I got instead was a call from Julian's assistant, Matt. The security guy held the phone to my ear.

"Mrs. Ashford, I'm so sorry. Your mother went into cardiac arrest during the transfer. The paramedics weren't able to bring her back."

"Since we couldn't reach any family, her body has been released to the county medical examiner's office, per protocol."

I heard someone screaming. It was a long time before I realized it was me.

I threw up on the carpet.

I don't know how long I cried.

Eventually, the tears ran out, and I felt quieter inside than I ever had in my life.

Fine.

Then we settle everything.

One of the security guys got a text and hauled me to my feet.

"Dr. Ashford is throwing Miss Vaughn a birthday party at the country club tonight. He wants you to change, come raise a glass in front of all the guests, and apologize to her."

"And he needs you to sign this."

He set a postnuptial agreement in front of me. If I signed it, I'd be voluntarily giving up everything from the marriage.

I didn't say a word. I got in the car with them, went home, and walked into the bedroom to change.

They waited outside the door for a long time.

When they finally broke it down, the bedroom was empty.

There was nothing on the bed but a gift box tied with a ribbon.