Chapter 7 - THE TRAP
By midnight, the hospital was surrounded by security.
My mother had been moved to a private suite.
Thomas refused to leave.
Phoebe called three attorneys.
I called no one.
Because I knew something was wrong.
Flynn had warned me.
But why?
He had every reason to protect his mother.
Unless he was finally choosing me.
At 12:42, the fire alarm sounded.
People rushed into the hall.
Security officers moved toward the exits.
Phoebe grabbed my arm.
“Stay with me.”
Then the lights went out.
Someone screamed.
Emergency lights flickered on.
I ran toward my mother's room.
The door was open.
The bed was empty.
My heart stopped.
“Mom!”
No answer.
Thomas appeared behind me.
“They took her.”
“Who?”
He looked toward the stairwell.
“Eleanor.”
I grabbed my phone.
There was one new message.
FROM FLYNN.
ROOF.
I ran.
On the hospital roof, I found Flynn standing beside my mother.
Eleanor stood opposite him.
A gun was pointed at Thomas.
My mother's face was pale.
“Mabel,” Flynn said, “don't move.”
I stared at him.
“You kidnapped my mother?”
“No.”
Eleanor laughed.
“He brought her here.”
Flynn looked at his mother.
“You're finished.”
She smiled.
“You think your wife can save you?”
“No.”
Flynn looked at me.
“She already did.”
Eleanor's expression changed.
Flynn pulled a small recorder from his pocket.
“Everything you said tonight has been recorded.”
Eleanor's face went white.
“You wouldn't.”
“I already did.”
The police appeared from the stairwell.
Eleanor tried to run.
She was stopped immediately.
But before officers took her away, she looked at me.
“You don't understand.”
“Understand what?”
She smiled.
“Your mother wasn't my target.”
I froze.
“Then who?”
Eleanor looked directly at Lily's room far below.
“Your daughter.”
My blood ran cold.
She had known about the succession.
She had known Lily was the final beneficiary.
And she had planned something worse than stealing the trust.
She had planned to make sure Lily never lived long enough to inherit it.
The police took Eleanor away.
Flynn walked toward me.
“I should have told you everything.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
I looked at him.
“I don't know if I believe you.”
He nodded.
“You don't have to.”
Then he handed me his phone.
“Read the last message from my mother.”
I did.
It contained one sentence.
THE PERSON YOU SHOULD FEAR IS NOT ME.
Beneath it was a photograph.
A photograph of Lily.
Taken that morning.
Inside the hospital.
May you like
Someone had been watching my daughter.
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