No one tried to stop me.
Later that morning my phone, still off, received a video message through hospital Wi-Fi that the nurse reluctantly played for me because Marcus wanted every communication preserved.
Tyler filled the screen. He looked disordered in a way that would have shocked anyone who only knew his public face. Tie loose. Eyes bloodshot. Hair wrong.
“Caroline, sweetheart,” he began. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I didn’t realize you were seriously hurt. Charlotte told me it was minor. Please. The company needs you. I need you. Upload the files and we’ll discuss everything after the gala. I promise.”
I deleted it without answering.
Marcus watched me. “Your mother would understand,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
By two that afternoon the head nurse returned with a look halfway between amusement and disgust.
“There’s a woman downstairs claiming to be your stepmother,” she said. “She’s demanding your belongings. She says you’ve been terminated and needs your access badge.”
Even with morphine, that was almost funny.
“Let her up,” I said.
Charlotte entered my hospital room like an event she had planned herself. Camel coat. designer bag. lipstick flawless. The moment she saw the chest tube, the bruising, the hospital bracelet, her face flickered with genuine shock. For a second I saw the real calculation beneath the cosmetic layers: she had not expected visible evidence.
“My God,” she said.
Then she recovered.
“Well,” she added crisply, “this is what happens when you drive recklessly.”
“The truck ran a red light,” I said. “Police report confirms it.”
She waved one hand. “Whatever. I need your badge and your passwords. You’re being terminated for dereliction of duty.”
Even Officer Hayes, standing near the door with a notebook, lifted an eyebrow at that.
“On whose authority?” I asked.
“Mine.”
I almost admired it. The audacity. “You are not an officer of the company, Charlotte. And only the board can terminate a senior architect.”
“Then give me the files.”
I leaned back against the pillows, let the monitor beside me beep steadily, and said, “I’m medically incapacitated.”
“You are doing this on purpose.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I know what you think you’re proving. You think you’re irreplaceable.”
“Not irreplaceable,” I said. “Just currently breathing through a tube.”
Her eyes flashed. “I already have your replacement lined up.”
