Chapter 6
The sterile white lights of Saint Jude Memorial Hospital flickered slightly as the heavy storm outside battered the reinforced glass windows. Room 402 smelled of rubbing alcohol and ozone. Clara lay flat on the adjustable hospital bed, her chest rising and falling in shallow, mechanical rhythms hooked up to a heart monitor that beeped with a steady, maddening cadence.
Detective Vance stood by the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, while Maya hovered near the corner of the room, keeping a safe distance from the bed. Julian stepped inside, his black suit rumpled from the holding cell, his face pale and drawn.
Clara’s eyelids fluttered. Slowly, painfully, she forced them open. Her emerald eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were cloudy with lingering neurological distress. She turned her head toward the sound of approaching footsteps, her gaze landing squarely on Julian.
A weak, bitter rasp escaped her chapped lips. “You… you bastard,” she whispered, her voice like sandpaper rubbing against stone.
Julian stopped at the foot of the bed, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep them from shaking. “You played a dangerous game, Clara. And you lost. The police have your lab equipment, your purchase orders for the chemical, and the confession you sent to my burner phone yesterday.”
Clara let out a wet, mocking cough that rattled her chest. She forced a crooked smile, her fingers twitching against the crisp white hospital sheets. “You think… you think I worked alone, Julian? You think I’m the only one who wanted to see your little fairytale wedding burn to the ground?”
Maya stepped out from the shadows of the corner, her face tight with anger and confusion. “What are you talking about, Clara? Who else could possibly be involved in this madness?”
Clara slowly shifted her gaze to Maya, a dark, pitying expression crossing her face. She let out a soft laugh that quickly turned into a hacking fit before she regained her breath.
“Ask your new husband,” Clara wheezed, pointing a shaky finger directly at Julian. “Ask him whose name is on the secondary deed to the house you’re living in right now. Ask him who funded his company before he ever met you.”
Maya slowly turned her head, looking up at Julian with eyes full of betrayal. “Julian? What is she talking about? What house? What company?”
May you like
Julian didn't answer immediately. He stared down at Clara, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out an old, faded photograph, and dropped it onto the hospital bed right beside Clara’s hand.
Clara glanced down at the photo, and the color drained completely from her face, leaving her looking like a corpse.
