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"Why did you send me to Heather and Tristen?" I interrupt her before she can get to the point: her money. The question has been on my mind since the day I found out who I'm not.
"They wanted you," she answers simply without a pause, and I read between the lines: she didn’t.
"You could've just left me with Nate." The words are a mere whisper, and I speak them as they pop into my head.
"Oh, I was planning on that, but your idiotic brother, despite his intellect, also doesn't know how to administer sedatives properly." She throws a glance over her shoulder. I follow her gaze and notice Gray scowl. Why does he let her talk to him like this?
"Anyway"—her conversational tone gives me the creeps—"when he brought you to the hospital, and you told them your name, I had to be the relieved mother, didn't I? Though, Nate's messages worked in my favor; everyone thought he was a threat." She rolls her eyes. "Henry was not at all for Tristen’s idea. Why Tristen came up with that plan, I have no idea, but you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right? They wanted you, so why fight them?" She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Her eyes are dead, and I have to avert my gaze. The longer she speaks, the harder it gets to breathe. Her confession gives me the answers I wanted, yet with every new word, my heart breaks a little bit further. No child wants to hear how her mother didn't want her. Emily continues her story without seeing or acknowledging what it does to me. "Did you know Henry even wanted to run with you? The silly man." She laughs. "I convinced him that it was in everyone’s best interest for you to go with Heather and let her raise your bratty behind. That mouth on you as a child..."
"You really had Brooks fooled," I mumble more to myself.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Brooks?"
I meet her incredulous gaze as needles prick at the back of my throat. I force myself to speak over the pain. "He left Nate and me a video. I found it the day he"—I dip my head toward Gray—"broke into my house."
"Your house?" Emily cackles. "Child, did they brainwash you again?" She shakes her head. "Oh well, none of that is important now. I was astonished to hear your father had the sense to change his will beyond the trust I knew he had set up for you. He was so out of his mind in the end. It was a pleasant surprise when I got the final number a few weeks ago."
My shoulders and neck start to cramp, but I force myself to remain propped up. The emotional tidal wave drowning me in everything from unimaginable sorrow to white-hot rage about who this woman is and what she has done is draining me fast.
"Let's talk about you putting your signature on the dotted line." She switches back to the topic that matters most to her. "If you do so now, this will be your only dose, but if you keep refusing, you may end up like my dear husband."
Henry.
My heart skips a beat at thinking his name, and I'm briefly distracted from her tirade.
"What did you do to him?" My voice is barely audible over the pounding in my ears.
"He’s alive, if that’s what you want to know."
Tears well up in my eyes. She hasn’t killed him.
"But that can easily be rectified," she amends with a grin that I’ve only ever seen on a villain of a horror movie. She is pure evil. How can this woman be my mother?
"Where is he?"
Is he here? In this house?
Her expression turns smug. "He is in Westbridge."
What?
"I had to leave him behind after your little disappearing act, but I’ll gladly hand him over—if you give me what belongs to me."
"Are you delusional?" I look between her and Gray. It sinks in, too late, that my words could have been interpreted as a refusal to give her the money, because that's exactly how she takes it.
Emily's hand shoots out, pushing me back into the semi-soft surface of the mattress. Her perfectly manicured nails dig into the flesh around my trachea again, constricting air from reaching my lungs. Choking seems to be one of her go-to torture methods. I latch onto her wrist, but I'm too weak to put any force behind it.
"I can't—" I rasp, barely audible.
"Em." Gray’s warning tone penetrates the rushing in my ears, but she doesn’t ease up.
Instead, the pressure remains, and she leans down, hissing in my ear. "I was meant to be at Brooks’s side. He was supposed to leave the rich whore for me. ME! Which was the only reason I didn’t run to the next clinic when I found out about you. But he wanted you. Only you. He cast me aside like trash."
Tears run down the side of my face, and black spots begin to form in my vision. In the back of my head, I know I won't stay conscious much longer. My eyes flutter closed, and my hand loosens around her arm, dropping to my side.
"Emily. You’re choking her," Gray’s voice gets louder.
He has come closer.
