Chapter 7 - The Photograph Taken Through the Glass
I stood immediately.
The weakness in my legs returned, but this time I ignored it.
Claire pointed toward the narrow window in the hospital-room door.
“That angle.”
I followed her gaze.
The photograph had been taken through the glass.
Someone had been standing in the corridor.
I opened the door.
Empty.
The night nurse looked up from the station.
“Mr. Blackwood?”
“Who was just outside my room?”
She frowned.
“No one.”
“Someone took a photograph.”
Claire showed her.
The nurse’s expression changed.
She called hospital security.
I stayed beside Lily.
I would not chase another shadow and leave my daughter alone.
That was exactly how people like Nora operated.
Pull your attention toward one danger.
Move while you looked away.
Ten minutes later, hospital security found no stranger on the floor.
No unauthorized visitor.
The camera covering my corridor had gone offline for four minutes.
Claire stared at me.
“Same pattern.”
“Villa cameras.”
“Now this.”
Someone had technical access.
Or someone knew how to exploit places where access already existed.
I looked at Claire.
“Who knew I was coming here?”
“You. Lily. Nora. Your security team.”
“Daniel.”
“Because you called him.”
“Grant.”
“Because you called him.”
“And you.”
She held my gaze.
“Yes.”
I appreciated that she didn’t pretend otherwise.
My phone buzzed.
Grant had sent the audio file.
Not the original recorder.
A digital copy.
I played it quietly.
Nora’s voice came first.
“I won’t hurt the child.”
Then Daniel Price.
At least it sounded like Daniel.
“Nobody asked you to.”
Nora whispered, “She follows him everywhere.”
Daniel’s voice answered, “Then keep her upstairs.”
“What if she comes down?”
“Distract her.”
The recording crackled.
Then the second voice spoke.
Lower.
Harder to identify.
“If she sees the tea, stop her.”
Claire looked at me.
I paused the recording.
“Recognize it?”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“So did you.”
She was right.
The voice sounded familiar.
But familiarity was dangerous when you wanted an answer.
I played the rest.
Nora said, “How much?”
The second voice answered.
“Enough to create the episode.”
Not kill him.
Create the episode.
My stomach turned.
Daniel’s voice followed.
“Once the second medical event is documented, the trust clause activates automatically.”
Then the recording ended.
Claire sat slowly.
“That sounds like Daniel.”
“It does.”
“But?”
“But the person talking about the dosage isn’t him.”
“We don’t know they meant dosage.”
“No.”
I looked toward Lily.
“We know they meant something that would create symptoms.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“Grant gave you this?”
“Yes.”
“And Grant’s name becomes interim proxy.”
“Yes.”
“That’s convenient.”
“For him?”
“For anyone trying to frame him.”
The more evidence I found, the less certain I became.
My uncle benefited.
Daniel prepared the documents.
Claire’s credentials had been used.
Nora administered something.
Four people.
Each connected.
Each with a reason to blame another.
My phone rang again.
Mason.
“We found Nora.”
“Where?”
“In the villa?”
“No.”
He sounded confused.
“Then where?”
“Her car.”
“Outside the gate?”
“Yes.”
“How did she get out?”
“She didn’t.”
I waited.
Mason continued.
“Her car never moved.”
“So where is she?”
“We haven’t found her. But we found her phone under the driver’s seat.”
“Bring it to me.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“A handwritten note on the passenger seat.”
“What does it say?”
Mason read it aloud.
I DID WHAT YOU ASKED. LEAVE MY SON OUT OF IT.
Nora had a son.
I knew that.
Michael.
Twenty-six years old.
He lived in Arizona.
At least that was what Nora had always told us.
“Call him.”
“We tried.”
“And?”
“The number is disconnected.”
Claire searched something on her phone.
“Nora’s personnel file.”
“What?”
“Michael Everett. Emergency contact.”
She frowned.
“This address isn’t Arizona.”
“Where?”
“Virginia.”
I knew the city.
Everyone inside Blackwood Holdings knew it.
It was where Daniel Price’s law firm maintained its records center.
Then Lily woke.
She blinked at me.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
She sat up slowly.
Then looked at Claire.
Her face changed.
“Miss Claire.”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Lily pointed at Claire’s handbag.
“That keychain.”
Claire looked down.
A small black leather tag hung from the zipper.
May you like
Lily whispered, “Aunt Nora had one exactly like that when she put the stuff in your tea.”
📖 Discover why Lily recognizes Claire’s unusual keychain—and whether it connects Nora to the person who supplied the substance in CHAPTER 8. 👇
