Chapter 5 - A Mother's Betrayal
I drove for two hours,
watching the rearview mirror,
ensuring no headlights followed us.
We ended up at a twenty-four-hour diner,
brightly lit,
smelling of old coffee and grease.
Noah sat in the booth,
eating pancakes,
giggling at a cartoon on my phone.
I sipped my black coffee,
my hands still shaking,
my mind working frantically.
I needed to see Claire.
I needed to know,
if she really took an overdose,
or if it was another lie.
I called the local hospital,
pretending to be our mother,
asking for Claire Lawson’s room.
"Room 402,"
the receptionist said,
"but visiting hours are over."
"Thank you,"
I whispered,
hanging up.
I paid the bill,
took Noah back to the car,
and drove toward the hospital.
I left Noah with the daycare staff,
at the hospital’s 24-hour employee crèche,
lying that I had an emergency shift.
I walked up the stairs,
avoiding the main elevators,
my heart hammering against my chest.
The fourth floor was quiet,
the hallway smelled of bleach,
and the lights were dimmed.
I found room 402,
the door slightly open,
a soft light shining within.
I peered inside,
and my breath caught.
Claire was sitting up in bed,
eating Jell-O,
laughing at something on her phone.
There were no tubes.
No monitors.
No signs of a medical emergency.
She looked perfectly fine.
Beside her bed sat Ethan,
holding her hand,
smiling warmly at her.
"You did great,"
Ethan murmured,
kissing her forehead.
"Your mother completely believes it,"
"Emma looks insane now."
Claire smiled,
a cruel,
unfamiliar smile.
"She always thought she was better than me,"
she whispered.
"Now she has nothing."
I stood in the hallway,
the words slicing through me,
destroying the last piece of my heart.
It was a setup.
The overdose was a hoax,
designed to ruin my reputation,
and validate Ethan's lies to my parents.
I pulled out my phone,
holding it up to the glass,
and started recording.
I captured Ethan kissing her,
I captured Claire laughing,
I captured the truth.
Suddenly,
Ethan looked up.
His eyes locked onto mine,
through the small window.
His smile vanished.
Panic flared in his eyes.
"Emma!"
he shouted,
jumping out of the chair.
I turned and ran,
May you like
bolting down the hallway,
as the alarms of my own survival screamed.
