Dr. Harris wasn't looking at Caleb when he spoke. He was looking at Rebecca.
"We have found a compound consistent with exposure to heavy metals. This explains the organ stress, neuropathy, nausea, and metallic taste."
Rebecca closed her eyes for a second.
Metal.
That taste that had lingered in his mouth for weeks.
Tea.
The basil plant.
The way Caleb watched her drink every night.
When he opened his eyes, Caleb stared at the sealed cup as if she had betrayed him.
Inspector Cole approached.
"Mr. Ward, we'll continue this conversation at the police station."
Caleb joined.
"You have no idea what he did to me."
Rebecca slowly turned her head.
Even in agony, even exposed, even surrounded, he kept trying to disguise himself as a wound.
"What have I done, Caleb?" she whispered.
His gaze suddenly turned towards her.
"You made me wait."
The words came out in a low voice.
He didn't scream.
It's not dramatic.
This only made things worse.
"You kept money you didn't earn," she said. "You always made me ask your permission for a life that should have been mine."
Nora made a small sound in her throat.
Whitaker's face hardened.
Rebecca did not cry. Her gaze remained fixed on the man who had mistaken inheritance for love and patience for weakness.
Inspector Cole put his hand to his wrist.
Caleb backed away far enough for the security guard to intervene.
Her polished shoe squeaked on the hospital floor.
The sound was low and humiliating.
A $900 shoe sliding next to a sealed bag of poisoned tea.
"You're going to regret this," Caleb told Rebecca.
She looked at Dr. Harris.
"How long will it take before I can be transferred?"
The doctor's face softened, but this did not affect his concentration.
"You will be transferred to a maximum security unit. Visitors are prohibited without authorization. Treatment begins tonight."
Treatment.
Another word that seemed almost too big to hold in your hand.
Attorney Whitaker approached his bed and placed a piece of paper in front of him. His father's signature was at the bottom.
Then his.
Then, the date of the day, stamped in red.
The emergency protection system for the property has been activated.
Rebecca touched the edge of the page with her fingertips.
Her hands were weak. Her nails were pale. The adhesive bandage from the IV drip was still pulling at her skin.
But the newspaper couldn't go on without her.
Caleb saw it.
That's when her face finally broke down.
I'm not one to cry.
In recognition.
He had not married a dying woman.
He had tried to bury the only person capable of closing all the doors before she reached them.
Inspector Cole led him to the lobby.
As she passed by the bed, Rebecca caught a whiff of his cologne, a blend of antiseptic and lemon. Expensive. Familiar. Now spoiled.
He stopped at the threshold.
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