Chapter 10 - The Awakening
The piercing alarm of the heart monitor subsided as the frantic medical staff rushed back into the intensive care unit, working with practiced precision to stabilize the elderly woman. Detective Miller stood by the doorway, keeping a watchful eye on Arthur Vance as he was hauled to his feet and handcuffed tightly by two backup officers.
"You're making a catastrophic mistake," Arthur snarled, straining against the cuffs as they dragged him toward the exit. "I was just checking the equipment per standard protocol!"
"Right, and I suppose carrying a master override bypass code in your pocket is standard protocol too," Detective Miller replied coldly, gesturing for the officers to remove him from the room immediately.
As the commotion settled down and the doctors finished adjusting the intravenous drips, a faint, raspy cough echoed from the center of the bed. Detective Miller turned sharply, stepping closer to the bedside as the elderly woman’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing pale blue eyes clouded with exhaustion but suddenly sharp with clarity.
"Mrs. Vance?" Detective Miller asked gently, leaning over the rail of the hospital bed. "Can you hear me?"
The older woman blinked slowly, her dry lips parting as she tried to force words past the plastic breathing tube still taped to her mouth. The doctor immediately stepped in, carefully removing the tube and handing her a small cup of ice chips, which she accepted with a trembling, frail hand.
"Water," the elderly woman whispered, her voice rough like dry sandpaper.
Detective Miller held the cup while she took a few small sips, waiting patiently until the woman regained enough strength to speak clearly.
"They... they tried to finish it," the old woman rasped, her gaze fixing on the detective with an intense, haunting urgency. "Julian... my son. He didn't just steal from me. He killed his father. And now he tried to kill me."
Detective Miller pulled a small digital recorder from her blazer pocket and pressed record, setting it gently on the bedside table.
"Take your time, Mrs. Vance," the detective said softly. "Tell me everything you know about Julian and what happened to your son's business partner five years ago."
The elderly woman took a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up at the ceiling.
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"Julian was always obsessed with wealth," she began, her voice gaining strength with every word. "He thought he deserved everything I built. When Daniel Hayes—Elena's first husband—discovered that Julian was embezzling from their firm, Julian poisoned him. I found the ledger in his private study a month later. That's why he kept me locked in that wheelchair, heavily medicated, so I couldn't tell the police the truth."
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