Chapter 1 - THE PHONE IN DIANE’S HANDBAG
The message remained glowing on Diane’s phone.
Did Claire fall exactly as planned?
Nobody moved.
Not Ryan.
Not Diane.
Not even me.
My father was still on speaker, and for several seconds, the only sound in the kitchen was my uneven breathing.
Then Ryan lunged toward his mother.
“Give me the phone.”
Diane stepped backward.
“No.”
That single word changed everything.
Ryan stopped.
I looked at him.
He wasn't shocked by the message.
He was afraid of it.
“Ryan,” I whispered, “what does that mean?”
He didn't answer.
My father did.
“Claire, don't touch that phone. Let the police photograph it exactly where it is.”
Diane's face twisted with anger.
“This is private.”
Dad laughed bitterly.
“Private? You have a message asking whether my daughter was pushed exactly as planned.”
Diane grabbed her handbag.
A police siren sounded outside.
Ryan's eyes darted toward the back door.
My father immediately said, “Ryan, don't even think about running.”
Two officers entered moments later with paramedics behind them.
One officer crouched beside me.
“Ma'am, can you tell me what happened?”
I pointed toward Diane.
“She pushed me.”
Diane immediately shook her head.
“She slipped.”
“I didn't slip.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
The officer looked at him.
“Sir, step away.”
Ryan obeyed.
The paramedics carefully stabilized my leg while another officer photographed the broken glass, the staircase, the position of the furniture, and Diane's handbag.
Then the officer asked Diane for her phone.
She refused.
“I have a right to privacy.”
“You can explain that to the judge.”
She finally surrendered it.
The officer looked at the screen.
His expression hardened.
“Who sent this?”
Diane remained silent.
Ryan stared at the floor.
My father suddenly spoke through the phone.
“Search the old hospital records.”
The officer looked toward him.
“What records?”
Dad answered quietly.
“The first wife.”
Ryan's head snapped up.
“Leave her out of this.”
Dad's voice became ice.
“No, Ryan. You already brought her back into this.”
The paramedics lifted me onto a stretcher.
As they wheeled me toward the door, I looked back.
Diane was staring at me.
Not with anger.
With fear.
And for the first time, I understood something terrifying.
My fall hadn't been an accident.
May you like
It had been scheduled.
And someone had been waiting to hear whether I survived.
