Chapter 4
David's father, Richard, finally spoke.
His voice was always steady, and this time it carried an edge of authority.
He said, "Emily, Margaret's just overwhelmed with grief and saying things she doesn't mean.
"David just died, and we're family. Let's not make this any uglier.
"Give the phone to Margaret and let her look at it. It might give her some comfort."
He made it sound like he was just trying to smooth things over, but really, he was pressuring me to give up the phone.
Family.
David hadn't thought about family when he left me on the highway to die.
They hadn't thought about family when they stormed into this room and called me a curse to my face.
I laughed at them inside my head and kept my face blank.
I said, "Richard, you're right. We're family.
"So we need to handle everything about David the right way.
"I've never seen this phone before. It could hold company secrets, or something he didn't want either of you to see, like a clue about the accident."
I put weight on the word accident and made sure they both heard it.
Richard's pupils shrank a fraction.
But Margaret didn't catch the hint. All she saw was me defying her again.
"Clues? Stop making things up just to frighten us! I know you just want to keep all my son's assets for yourself!" she yelled.
She lunged at me again, her bony fingers like talons, aiming straight for the phone in my hand.
This time, I didn't dodge.
Just as her hand was about to reach me, I raised my voice and let exactly the right amount of panic into it.
"What are you doing?" I shouted.
"This is a hospital! Are you trying to snatch my stuff?" I yelled.
"Help. Someone's trying to rob me!" I screamed.
My voice was sharp enough to carry down the whole quiet floor.
Margaret froze, stunned by my reaction.
She had probably never imagined that the woman who never dared breathe too loudly around her would fight back this way.
Richard's face darkened instantly.
"Shut up! Are you out of your mind?" he snapped, his voice low and furious.
He stepped forward, reaching to silence me.
The hospital room door flew open with a loud bang.
The young cop who'd taken my statement rushed in, looking on high alert.
"What's going on?" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room.
I dropped every bit of my edge, let my eyes fill, and looked at the officer like a woman who had been wronged.
I said, "Officer, my husband just passed away, and now his parents are here, trying to pressure me and take his belongings.
"I told them this phone might have company files and needs to be protected, but they tried to take it by force."
My voice stayed soft and shaky, and I played the widow being bullied by her own family for everything it was worth.
The young cop glanced at the phone in my hand, then at Margaret and Richard, both flushed with anger. He caught on right away.
He turned to Richard, and his voice was firm. "Sir, these belongings were released to Ms. Hughes as next of kin, according to procedure. They're her personal property now.
"If you have any issues with the inheritance, you need to settle it legally. If you keep making a scene or try to snatch things here in the hospital, we'll treat it as disturbing the peace."
Richard's face went from pale to flushed, then back again.
He had probably never imagined a young officer would lecture him like that.
Margaret was about to throw another fit, but Richard grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Let's go!" Richard spat, his voice tight with anger.
He shot me a glare sharp enough to cut, and it was full of venom and warning.
His gaze was full of venom and warning.
He shot me a glare sharp enough to cut, and it was full of venom and warning.
I stared right back at him, not backing down, until they finally disappeared through the door.
After the cop made sure I was okay, he closed the door behind him.
Finally, the whole world went quiet.
I sat back down on the bed, drained, and my shirt was soaked with cold sweat.
I stared at the closed door, knowing this was just the first round.
The real battle was only just beginning.
I lowered my head, my gaze falling once more on the cold phone in my hand.
David Rowe.
I wanted to know what he had buried inside that phone.
Whatever it was, it was worth a second face to protect.
And it was worth everything I had to take.