Chapter 6 - The Report in Claire’s Hands
Claire arrived at the hospital shortly after midnight.
I almost refused to see her.
Then I decided I wanted to watch her face while I asked questions.
She entered wearing the same charcoal suit she had worn at the office that morning.
She looked exhausted.
“Lily?”
“Asleep.”
“Is she hurt?”
“She was slapped.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“And you?”
“Still conscious.”
“I can see that.”
“Can you?”
She stopped.
“What does that mean?”
I turned my phone toward her.
The fake July medical report filled the screen.
Her name appeared beneath Witness.
Claire stared at it.
“I did not sign this.”
“Grant said the same thing.”
“I don’t care what Grant said.”
“You carried the form into Conference Room Twelve.”
“That was not this form.”
“What was it?”
“A routine insurance declaration.”
“For me?”
“For executive coverage.”
“Where did it come from?”
“Daniel.”
Of course.
Claire sat down.
“He asked me to bring a packet to the meeting because he needed your signature before the quarter closed.”
“Did I sign it?”
“Three pages.”
“What pages?”
“I don’t remember.”
I looked at her.
“You remember every calendar change I make six months later.”
Her face hardened.
“Because calendars are my job. Memorizing page numbers isn’t.”
“Fair.”
She seemed surprised that I admitted it.
I continued.
“Did you witness me collapse?”
“No.”
“Did you report any medical concern?”
“No.”
“Did you send an incapacity certification tonight?”
“No.”
“Did you access my villa?”
Claire shook her head.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
“You have an executive override card.”
“In my wallet.”
“Show me.”
She reached into her handbag.
Then stopped.
Her expression changed.
She searched another compartment.
Then another.
“It’s gone.”
I almost laughed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
She looked genuinely frightened now.
“I expect you to verify when it was last used.”
I called Mason.
He checked the access history.
Claire’s card identifier had opened the private study at 7:08 p.m.
One minute before Nora appeared on camera.
Claire heard him through speakerphone.
“That’s impossible.”
“Where were you at seven?”
“Blackwood Tower.”
“Proof?”
“Building entry. Garage camera. My laptop was connected to the office network.”
“Could someone have borrowed the card?”
“It hasn’t left my wallet.”
“Except it isn’t in your wallet.”
Claire stared at the floor.
Then she looked at me.
“Nora.”
“What?”
“She was in my office yesterday.”
“Why?”
“She brought Lily’s school calendar.”
“Why would my housekeeper bring that?”
“Because you asked for your family travel dates synchronized with your corporate schedule.”
That sounded like me.
It was the kind of minor administrative task I delegated without thinking.
Claire continued.
“My handbag was beside the desk.”
“You think Nora took your card.”
“I think she could have.”
“Then who gave Nora access to your office?”
“She already has building clearance for household deliveries.”
I leaned back.
Every answer created another opening.
Claire looked toward Lily.
“She warned you?”
“She saw Nora put something in the tea.”
Claire’s face changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
I noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was not nothing.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Three weeks ago, Nora asked me whether you still drank tea after dinner.”
A cold pressure spread through my chest.
“What exactly did she ask?”
“She said you seemed tired lately. She asked if I thought you should stop caffeine at night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it sounded like a housekeeper asking about tea.”
“And now?”
“Now it sounds different.”
I watched her carefully.
“Did you tell her my routine?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That you drink one cup around eight when you work from home.”
Lily shifted in her sleep.
I lowered my voice.
“So Nora knew the routine because of you.”
Claire looked sick.
“Yes.”
Then she reached into her bag again.
“I brought something.”
She handed me a printed email.
Sender:
Ethan Blackwood.
Recipient:
Claire Reeves.
Date:
July 23.
Subject:
Medical Contingency Preparation.
The message instructed Claire to cooperate with Daniel Price on a precautionary incapacity file.
My name was signed at the bottom.
I had never written it.
Claire pointed at the sender address.
“It came from your private account.”
“That account requires two-factor authentication.”
“I know.”
“My phone never approved a login.”
“Then somebody was already inside.”
I looked at the timestamp.
11:46 p.m.
On July twenty-third, I had been home.
Nora had been in the villa.
Claire’s phone buzzed.
She glanced down.
Then immediately locked the screen.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Claire.”
She hesitated.
Then handed me the phone.
A message from an unknown number.
STOP HELPING HIM.
Beneath it was a photograph.
Lily asleep in the hospital chair.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
May you like
Inside my private hospital room.
📖 Find out who photographed Lily from inside Ethan’s hospital floor—and why the threat proves the conspiracy has followed them beyond the villa in CHAPTER 7. 👇
