Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN ROOM 214
Alexander reached North Valley Care Center before midnight.
I went with Detective Torres.
Lily stayed with Mrs. Walsh, my trusted neighbor.
The hospital corridor was nearly empty.
Room 214 was guarded by two officers.
Alexander stopped outside the door.
His hand shook.
Detective Torres looked at him.
“You ready?”
“No.”
He opened the door anyway.
A woman lay in the bed.
Her face was thinner than he remembered.
There were faint scars along her left cheek.
Her hair was shorter.
But her eyes were unmistakable.
Alexander whispered:
“Eleanor.”
She turned.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
“Alex?”
He crossed the room.
He stopped beside her bed.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I almost was.”
“Why didn't you come back?”
Eleanor looked toward Dr. Reed.
“Because I didn't know who I could trust.”
She explained that the crash had been arranged.
Her car had been forced off the road.
The vehicle caught fire.
But she had survived.
A passing truck driver found her.
She was taken to a private clinic.
Then someone came for her.
She was drugged.
Held.
Moved between medical facilities.
They wanted her dead before she could recover enough to speak.
Dr. Reed eventually realized what was happening.
He secretly transferred her to North Valley.
“But why did you use your maiden name?”
“I had to disappear.”
Alexander took her hand.
“I searched for you.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Newspapers.”
“Your company.”
“Your first anniversary after my death.”
She cried.
“I watched everything.”
“And you saw Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
“That was the cruelest part.”
Eleanor looked down.
“I didn't know she was pretending to be pregnant.”
“But you knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“The trust that would pass if I died.”
“Yes.”
“And if I had a child?”
“The structure changed again.”
Alexander looked toward Detective Torres.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Because someone wanted you emotionally destroyed.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Your uncle.”
Alexander frowned.
“My uncle died when I was twenty.”
“No.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“He was alive when I was attacked.”
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
“Then who?”
Eleanor's voice became faint.
“Edward Whitmore.”
Alexander froze.
His uncle's name.
The man whose funeral he had attended.
The man whose portrait hung in the Whitmore corporate headquarters.
“The death certificate was fake,” Eleanor said.
“And Edward has been working through Julian.”
Alexander stepped back.
The conspiracy suddenly expanded again.
Julian wasn't the mastermind.
He was an heir being used.
Vanessa wasn't the mastermind.
She was a participant.
And Dr. Reed had been trapped in the middle.
But there was another question.
“If Edward is alive…”
Alexander swallowed.
“Where is he?”
Eleanor looked at him.
“You've already met him.”
Alexander stared.
“No.”
Eleanor nodded.
“At the foundation meeting last month.”
“An old investor.”
“Exactly.”
The man who had introduced himself as Edward Harrow.
A quiet investor.
Someone Alexander trusted.
Someone who had been helping the company reorganize after the alleged death of his uncle.
May you like
Eleanor whispered:
“That's him.”
