Chapter 6

Clara's POV

On the day of my discharge, the nurse's aide helped me into a taxi.

My body was still painfully frail. I sat in the back catching my breath for a long time before heading back to retrieve my car.

I drove into the gated community. Just as I turned toward the building entrance, a figure suddenly lunged from behind the bushes straight toward my hood.

I slammed my foot on the brake.

The tires screeched violently against the asphalt, but the front bumper still clipped the person.

The seatbelt cut violently into my lower abdomen, sending a sharp, tearing pain through my surgical incision.

My hands shook uncontrollably as I pulled the keys, shoved the door open, and stepped out.

Chloe was lying on the pavement, clutching her right leg and groaning pitifully.

I walked over and crouched down to look. Her clothes weren't torn, there was no blood, and her bones clearly weren't broken.

I didn't reach out to help her up. Instead, I pulled out my phone.

I dialed 911 directly.

I clearly reported the address and my license plate number to the dispatcher, keeping the call active on my screen.

She had sprinted head-on toward my car.

I knew Chloe was trying to set me up, so I made sure the dispatch recording and my dashcam footage were completely secure.

The ambulance sirens wailed as they loaded her in. I drove behind them to the hospital.

Outside the emergency room, Thomas and Evelyn were already there, pressed against the glass doors, peering frantically inside.

I walked over, but before I could utter a word, Evelyn spun around and shoved me violently backward.

"What are you even doing here?! If so much as a hair on Chloe's head is harmed, it's entirely your fault!"

My back slammed hard against the corridor wall. I didn't say a word.

Fifteen minutes later, the ER doors swung open.

The attending physician walked out holding a stack of charts, his brow knitted into a deep frown.

He glanced left and right, pulled Thomas into a quiet corner of the hallway, and lowered his voice.

"The injuries on this patient were definitely not caused by a car accident today."

Standing just a few feet away, I heard every single syllable.

"These are old contusions. There are over a dozen of them. Some subcutaneous hematomas have already scabbed over, while others are still weeping fluid."

The doctor looked sharply at Thomas. "As her family, do you mean to tell me you never noticed this at home?"

Thomas's face drained of color. His lips twitched, but no words came out.

"Who does she live with?" the doctor pressed.

Thomas snatched the medical charts, rolled them into a tight cylinder, and clutched them in a death grip.

"This is a private family matter. We'll handle it ourselves at home."

The doctor stared at him for two seconds, slipped his pen back into the pocket of his white coat, and shook his head before walking back into the clinic.

I stood frozen in place, my fingers curling tightly into my palms.

In this entire hospital, the only person who had spoken the truth was a doctor who didn't even know me.

I thought that with those bruises exposed, Thomas would at least turn around and ask me what happened.

I looked up. Thomas immediately averted his eyes, staring blankly at the wall clock.

He didn't even ask, "How did you get here?"

The medical chart was crushed in his fist, and the truth was crushed right along with it in that hallway.

The Gray family didn't care about the truth. They just needed an outsider they could blame.

I turned to leave. Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my wrist from behind, gripping the bone so hard it throbbed with pain.

I hadn't even noticed when Ethan had arrived.

He was still wearing yesterday's tailored suit, his tie slightly crooked, his palm cold as ice.

"Until this is sorted out, you're not going anywhere."

I looked up at him. His eyes were filled with nothing but cold suspicion.

The ER doors opened again.

Chloe was wheeled out on a gurney, her face pale.

The second she saw me, she shrank back, pointing a trembling finger in my direction and bursting into loud, hysterical sobs.

"It's her! She hit the gas and ran me down on purpose!"

Chloe reached out to grab Evelyn's jacket. "She even hired thugs to beat me up outside! Look what they did to me! Dad, Mom, please save me!"

The corridor fell dead silent. Several visitors and family members turned their heads, their eyes landing squarely on me.

I stood in the center of the hall, my arms hanging limp.

I looked at Chloe on the gurney, then down at the rolled-up chart in Thomas's fist.

All three of them knew exactly who had given her those bruises, yet not a single one opened their mouth.

I took half a step backward.

My body was too weak from the recent surgery; my knees buckled, and I nearly hit the floor.

Ethan's fingers gripped my wrist so tightly they bruised. Not once did he ask me for my side of the story.

I kept my mouth shut.

Who would I even tell the truth to?

There wasn't a single person in this hallway willing to listen to me.

Evelyn charged forward like a madwoman, raised her hand, and slapped me across the face with everything she had.

The force snapped my head to the side, my cheek stinging and flushing crimson instantly.

I didn't raise a hand to block it.

"Clara Brooks, you wicked monster!" Evelyn screeched, pointing her finger inches from my nose. "What did Chloe ever take from you?! You actually tried to kill her!"

Thomas stormed over, grabbed me by the collar, and dragged me away from the wall into the middle of the hallway.

He raised his hand, ready to strike.

I stood there, choked by the tight collar, my voice sounding as dry as stagnant water.

"Are you done hitting me?"