My own father smashed a brick into my face because my fiancé refused to leave me for my younger sister
His gaze moved from the screen to me.
“The old man has been found.”
“Where?”
“Two blocks from the house. A patrol officer found him sitting at a bus stop.”
“Who is he?”
“He says his name is Walter Pike.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Why was he in their house?”
“He claims he used to work for your grandfather.”
My pulse quickened.
“Bring him here.”
“That may not be possible.”
“Why?”
“He’s being transported to another hospital. He appears to have been drugged.”
Wyatt’s hand tightened around mine.
Detective Beckett continued.
“He told the officer your parents had been keeping him in the basement since yesterday.”
A coldness spread through me that no blanket could stop.
My parents had not merely planned an attack.
They had imprisoned a witness.
“Is he going to live?”
“We think so.”
“What did he see?”
“He hasn’t given a full statement yet.”
Dr. Hart entered before I could ask more.
“We need to take Sadie into surgery.”
“I’m not finished,” I protested.
“You have internal bleeding around the fracture. This cannot wait.”
Detective Beckett put away his notebook.
“We’ll continue when you’re stable.”
As the nurses prepared to move me, Wyatt bent down.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“What if my parents come?”
“They won’t get near you.”
“What if Melanie runs?”
“She won’t get far.”
His confidence should have comforted me.
Instead, fear pressed harder against my ribs.
Because Melanie had always been underestimated.
She smiled beautifully, dressed carefully, and cried whenever someone confronted her.
Growing up, she could break a lamp and convince my parents I had done it.
She once stole money from my purse, then accused me of being jealous when I found it in her room.
She didn’t lie like an amateur.
She lied until the truth felt cruel.
As they wheeled me toward surgery, I caught Wyatt’s sleeve.
“Don’t believe anything she says.”
“I won’t.”
“She’ll make herself the victim.”
“Not this time.”
The operating room doors opened.
The last thing I saw was Wyatt standing beneath the fluorescent lights, covered in my blood and looking ready to burn the world down for me.
When I woke, dawn had begun to soften the sky outside my window.
My face was wrapped in bandages. Pain pulsed beneath them, heavy and deep.
For a few seconds, I didn’t remember where I was.
Then Wyatt leaned forward from the chair beside my bed.
“Hey.”
His voice cracked.
I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry.
He raised a cup of water and held the straw carefully.
“Slowly.”
“Did they fix it?”
“The surgery went well.”
“My eye?”
“The doctor still believes your vision will return.”
I let out a weak breath.
Wyatt brushed his fingers over the back of my hand.
“You were in surgery for almost four hours.”
“Police?”
His expression darkened.
“Your father has been charged with felony assault.”
“My mother?”
“Arrested for conspiracy and obstruction.”
“Melanie?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“She ran.”
I closed my right eye.
“Of course she did.”
“They found her car at the airport.”
“Did she get on a plane?”
“No. Security footage shows her leaving in another vehicle.”
“Whose?”
“They’re still checking.”
I stared at the pale morning light.
“She planned an escape.”
“It looks that way.”
“No. She planned everything.”
Wyatt did not argue.
A knock sounded at the door.
Detective Beckett entered with a woman in a navy suit carrying a laptop and a thick file.
“This is Assistant District Attorney Lena Morris.”
