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“Helene?”
I shook my head, trying to shake his hold free. I’d come here to confront him. To demand answers, not to torment myself even more with the lies of the past. But that’s all this place was, a goddamn lie. I winced, ground my teeth, and lifted the framed image from the wall, staring at the safe embedded in the wall behind it.
The stainless safe shone, drawing Riven’s focus even more.
“What’s in it?”
I punched in the sequence, day, month, me; day, month, Viv; day, month, Ryth.
Click.
“Flash drives mostly.” I murmured, staring into the empty space. “Well, usually.”
There were no drives, none of the bundles of cash my father stashed everywhere. There was nothing but a single yellow envelope with a note attached.
“What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know.” I reached up, grabbed the envelope, and pulled it out.
I’m sorry.
My father’s neat scrawl was written on the note attached. My pulse skipped, forcing me to lift my gaze. Riven’s eyes were fixed on mine. Those dark eyes shimmered with fear and excitement. He knew it was something. Because it was…something.
I looked down at the unsealed flap, the sticker tape still in place. “Shit.”
My fingers trembled as I reached inside.
Medical Report for Weyland King.
D.O.B…
I let my gaze move down the page. This wasn’t just any report—I glanced around the room, finding the utter destruction. Then turned to the only untouched thing in the entire room—so it couldn’t be anyone other than my father. Who else would leave this for me to find?
CAT Scan evaluation, Glioblastoma Multiforme, Grade IV.
“Grade four?” I whispered, fumbling for my cell to punch in the details Glio…Glioblastoma Multiforme.
I stared at the information as it filled the screen.
Glioblastoma is a fast-growing, aggressive brain tumor that invades nearby brain tissue. GBM is a devastating brain cancer that can result in death in six months or less if untreated. It’s imperative to seek medical care urgently.
“Six months?” The words were a squeak. My stomach rolled and heaved. I crushed the report as I braced my hands on my knees. “Six months? Six fucking months?”
“Give it to me.”
I handed over the report, focusing on the gray carpet at my feet and the corner of what looked like a list of names.
“Jesus Christ,” Riven moaned.
Movement came behind us. Riven handed the report over to Kane, who read it quickly. “This could explain a lot.”
I lifted my gaze, straightening. “What do you mean?”
There was a sincerity in his stare. “If you had six months to live and three daughters to save, what would you do?”
What would I do? In the world of Haelstrom Hale and that festering pit of vipers. “Everything.”
I looked around the room, finding deep gouges in the walls before I looked at that chair with the leg embedded in the wall. This wasn’t the room I remembered. I looked down at the note still stuck to my hand and unfurled my fingers.
