Chapter 8
The double doors of the hospital lobby swung open, admitting a rush of cool autumn air and a weary-looking couple carrying expensive leather luggage. Arthur and Evelyn Vance, Clara’s uncle and aunt, looked disheveled from their overnight flight from London. Evelyn’s eyes were red-rimmed and hollow, while Arthur’s jaw was set in a grim, unyielding line. They had received the frantic, fragmented phone calls during their layover, piecing together the disaster that had turned a wedding day into a nightmare.
Elena, who had been waiting near the reception desk, stepped forward to intercept them before they reached the elevators. She recognized them from family photographs Clara had kept on her desk.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vance?” Elena said gently, extending a hand. “I’m Elena Vance—no relation, just a guest at the wedding who stayed through yesterday.”
Evelyn grasped Elena’s hand with surprising strength. “Clara? Where is she? How is Lily? Is she—is she alive?”
“She’s alive, Evelyn, and she’s stable,” Elena reassured them, guiding them toward a quiet seating area away from the main traffic. “She’s in the pediatric intensive care unit. She suffered a concussion and a skull fracture, but the doctors say the swelling is beginning to subside. She hasn’t woken up yet, but her vitals are holding steady.”
Arthur dropped his heavy travel bag to the floor with a dull thud, running both hands over his silver-streaked hair. “A wedding. We flew halfway across the world for a wedding, and now our niece is lying in an ICU bed because someone couldn’t be bothered to hang a sign properly.”
“The police are investigating,” Elena said quietly, choosing her words with care. “It appears there were shortcuts taken during the installation of the decor.”
Evelyn sank into a vinyl armchair, covering her face with her hands. “Shortcuts. People always talk about saving time, as if human lives are just an acceptable collateral damage for their convenience. Where is Julian?”
“He’s upstairs with Clara,” Elena replied. “They’re… navigating a very difficult moment right now.”
May you like
Arthur let out a harsh, bitter breath. “I’ll bet they are. I never trusted that boy’s family. Too much flash, too little substance. Let’s go up. I want to see my niece for myself.”
As they walked down the corridor toward the elevators, Elena watched the grieving parents with a deep sense of sorrow. The fallout from the wedding day was only just beginning, and the legal and emotional wreckage promised to tear multiple families apart before the truth was fully brought to light.
