Chapter 10 - The Phantom at the Door
The news hit Mark like ice water. "Out? How could they let her out on bail? She tried to murder my wife!"
"The formal charge right now is aggravated assault and child endangerment," Miller sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Sterling argued that the forensic evidence is circumstantial and that Elena took the medication voluntarily while suffering from postpartum psychosis. Without Elena's testimony, the DA couldn't hold her on an attempted murder charge without a formal grand jury indictment. The judge set bail at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Sterling paid it in cash within twenty minutes."
"Where is she?" Mark stood up, his fists clenching, the veins in his neck bulging. "Where did she go?"
"A restraining order is in effect. She is legally barred from coming within five hundred yards of you, Clara, or this hospital," Miller said firmly, putting a heavy hand on Mark’s shoulder. "I have two uniformed officers stationed at the main entrance and one outside Elena's ICU unit. You are safe here, Mark."
"Paper doesn't stop her," Mark said, his voice trembling with a mixture of terror and raw rage. "You don't know her, Miller. My whole life, if Evelyn Vance wanted something, she tore down walls until she had it. She destroyed my father. She made him believe he was crazy until he drove his car off the bridge on Route 4."
Miller looked at Mark, a grim understanding passing between them. "She won't get Clara. I give you my word."
The hours dragged toward dawn like molasses. Mark refused to leave Elena's bedside. He pulled a hard plastic chair up to the mattress, wrapping his fingers around Elena's cold, limp hand. Her pulse fluttered against his palm, weak but steady. On the bedside monitor, the EEG lines showed erratic spikes—her brain was fighting through the chemical haze.
Around 4:30 AM, the lights in the ICU corridor flickered once, then dimmed as the hospital shifted to auxiliary power for a routine generator test. The hum of the air conditioning dipped.
Mark turned his head toward the glass door.
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Standing outside in the dimly lit hallway, just past the boundary of the nurse’s station where the guard had stepped away for coffee, was a figure in a dark trench coat. The silver-blonde hair caught the emergency exit light.
Evelyn was staring straight through the glass at Mark, a small, twisted smile curving her thin lips, holding a silver cell phone up to her ear.
