a voice shouted from the hallway:
“Open up! Police!”
But Claire was already too close to my son…
PART 3
“Let him go,” Ms. Parker said calmly.
Claire tightened her grip on Ethan.
“No one is taking what’s mine.”
The door shook under a heavy удар.
“Police! Open the door!”
Ryan’s face drained of color.
For the first time, he didn’t look like the grieving husband.
He looked trapped.
“Claire, put it away,” he said.
“Now you’re scared?” she shot back. “You weren’t shaking when you planned to take the house, the accounts, and the boy.”
“You cut the brakes!”
“Because you didn’t have the guts!”
Every word fell like shattered glass.
Ms. Parker said nothing.
She didn’t need to.
Her phone was recording everything.
The door burst open.
Two officers rushed in. A nurse screamed.
Claire struggled, but one officer twisted her arm, and something clattered to the floor.
A scalpel.
My own sister had brought a scalpel into my hospital room.
Ethan broke free and ran to me, clutching me carefully despite the pain.
“Mom… please…”
With everything I had left, I squeezed his hand.
Hard.
He looked up.
“She’s awake! My mom is awake!”
I forced my eyes open.
The hospital lights burned. Everything was blurry—uniforms, faces, tears.
But I saw him.
My Ethan.
