Chapter 4 - Ghost in the Recovery Ward
The steady, rhythmic beep... beep... beep of the monitor was the only sound anchoring Claire to the mortal realm.
It was three in the morning. The recovery ward was bathed in a pale, greenish dimness. Claire lay buried beneath crisp white hospital sheets, surrounded by IV bags, blood transfusions, and oxygen tubes. Her face was as white as chalk, her breathing slow and mechanically assisted.
Julian had not moved from the plastic chair beside her bed. He still wore his ruined suit, refusing to wash Claire’s dried blood from his hands. He held her limp, cool fingers against his lips, silently bargaining with whatever gods existed in the universe.
The door clicked open softly.
Julian’s eyes snapped toward the entrance, half-expecting his mother’s security guards to storm the room. Instead, a slight figure slipped inside, locking the door silently behind her.
It was Maya, Claire’s younger sister. Her eyes were red and swollen, her denim jacket soaked from the rain outside.
"Julian," Maya whispered, rushing to the side of the bed. She touched Claire’s pale cheek, a sob escaping her throat. "I got your message. What happened to her? They said on the news... the Sterling PR team put out a statement saying Claire fell down the stairs while decorating for the gala."
Julian let out a bitter, humorless bark of laughter. "Eleanor pushed her. Over the balcony railing. I caught her, but... the impact was too much."
Maya froze, her eyes widening in horror. "She pushed her? That witch tried to murder my sister?" She looked down at Claire’s flat belly under the blanket. "And the baby...?"
Julian’s throat tightened, a stone of sorrow choking the breath from his lungs. He shook his head slowly. "The baby is in an incubator. A little girl. Barely two pounds. She... she survived the emergency surgery, Maya. But the doctors gave her less than a twenty percent chance to make it through the week. And Claire... she doesn't know yet. She slipped into a coma right after the procedure."
Maya pulled Julian into a desperate hug, her tears soaking through his vest. "Why would Eleanor do this? She knew how much you both loved this child."
"Because of the inheritance," Julian said, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register. "My father’s will states that if I don’t produce a living heir before my thirty-fifth birthday—which is next month—the entire family fortune, the estate, and the board seats default to Eleanor and my uncle Marcus. Eleanor thought if Claire lost the baby, she could force a divorce and marry me off to someone of her choosing."
"She’s a monster," Maya breathed.
"She’s a criminal," Julian corrected. "And she thinks she erased all the security footage."
Claire’s fingers suddenly twitched in Julian’s hand.
Both Julian and Maya froze, turning their gazes toward the bed. Claire’s eyelids fluttered, her lips parting with a dry, agonizing gasp.
"Julian..." Claire’s voice was nothing more than a raspy breath.
"Claire! I'm here, my love. I'm right here," Julian whispered, leaning over her.
May you like
Claire’s hazel eyes opened slowly, glazed with heavy pain medication, but burning with a sudden, sharp lucidity. Her weak hand reached out, grabbing Julian’s lapel with surprising strength.
"Julian... the nursery," Claire wheezed, fighting through the haze of anesthesia. "The teddy bear on the high shelf... the nanny cam... it has an independent cloud server. It saw everything."
