Vanessa's name kept appearing on a loop on the screen of his phone, which was constantly vibrating in his pocket.
Nobody let him answer.
After the door closed, Nora approached Rebecca's bed. Her rough hand brushed against the blanket as she carefully adjusted the IV drip.
"I took the rest from the pantry," he said. "And from the garden shed. I'd hidden some behind the fertilizer."
Rebecca nodded once.
A lump formed in her throat as she tried to formulate the question she had been afraid to ask.
"Did I arrive too late?"
Dr. Harris looked at the screen, then at her file, and then back at her.
"No," he said. "But we're not going to waste another hour."
At 4:02 in the afternoon, the nurses came to transfer her.
The hallway outside his room was no longer deserted. Two hospital officials were standing near the nurses' station. Another official was waiting by the elevator. Attorney Whitaker was on the phone, his voice so calm that every sentence he uttered seemed final.
Rebecca was pushed out of the room just as Detective Cole was leading Caleb toward the elevator.
They didn't put the handcuffs on him in front of everyone.
Not yet.
But her hands were down, her shoulders rigid, her face pale under the neon lights.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Rebecca did not smile.
She did not forgive him.
She didn't explain what kind of woman survives betrayal from her hospital bed.
He simply turned his head towards Nora.
"Call the vineyard manager," he whispered.
Nora bowed.
"What should I tell him?"
Rebecca's fingers tightened around her hospital bracelet.
"The money stops coming in today."
