Chapter 10 - An Unexpected Call
The vibration of the phone on the heavy mahogany desk sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet study. Mr. Harrison glanced down at the illuminated screen, his eyebrows drawing together in a sharp line as he read the caller ID. He looked up at Clara, hesitation written across his features.
“It’s the precinct,” Mr. Harrison said, his thumb hovering over the accept button. “The desk sergeant.”
“Put it on speaker,” Clara instructed immediately, stepping closer to the desk.
Mr. Harrison tapped the screen and pressed the volume button.
“Harrison,” the lawyer said formally.
“Mr. Harrison, you need to get down to the downtown division headquarters immediately,” the voice of the desk sergeant crackled through the speaker, laced with obvious tension. “Your client—Mrs. Vance—just suffered a severe medical event during the intake processing.”
Clara and the lawyer exchanged a sharp look of disbelief.
“A medical event?” Mr. Harrison repeated skeptically. “Eleanor is as tough as old leather. Is this another one of her theatrical ploys to get transferred to a private hospital?”
“I wish it were, sir,” the sergeant replied heavily. “She collapsed right after asking for a glass of water. Paramedics are performing CPR right now, but she’s unresponsive. The ambulance is en route to St. Jude’s General.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Clara stood frozen for a moment, the heavy silence of the study rushing back in to fill the void. The woman who had ruined her life, stolen her child’s early years, and plotted her financial ruin just minutes ago was now fighting for her life on the floor of a police precinct intake room.
“We need to go,” Mr. Harrison said, grabbing his leather portfolio off the desk and tucking the evidence bag securely inside. “If she passes before signing the final confession affidavit, sorting out the estate assets through probate court could take years.”
Clara didn’t move immediately. Her mind was racing, turning over the decades of cruelty, bitterness, and survival that had defined their bitter rivalry.
“She wanted to destroy me,” Clara murmured, almost to herself. “She wanted me to watch everything she built crumble into ash. And now her own empire is collapsing around her while she lies on a linoleum floor.”
“Clara?” Mr. Harrison urged gently, pausing by the study door.
“Let’s go,” Clara said, her voice firm once again as she walked out from behind the desk. “We have a daughter to protect, and a dying woman to confront.”
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Within ten minutes, they were speeding down the highway toward St. Jude’s General Hospital, the night blurring past the windows of the town car as the city lights flickered overhead like distant, indifferent stars.
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