Chapter 74: Bad news

Chapter 74: Bad news

Morning light crept quietly into Audrey’s bedroom, pale and soft, touching the walls without warmth. Audrey lay still on the bed, her eyes open, her body unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of her chest. Sleep had not really come to her; it had hovered and left, returning only in thin fragments. Her thoughts were heavy, crowded, but oddly silent.

The door burst open without warning.

“Audrey,” Yvonne said, rushing in, her voice sharp with panic. “Audrey, wake up.”

Audrey turned her head slightly. “I’m awake,” she said, her voice flat.

Yvonne crossed the room in a few fast steps and stopped beside the bed. Her hands trembled as she clasped them together, struggling to steady herself. “Something happened,” she said. “Something bad.”

Audrey stared at her. She didn’t ask what. She didn’t sit up. She just waited.

Yvonne swallowed hard. “Izo had a heart attack.”

The words landed softly, but they hit deep. Audrey blinked once.

“What?” Yvonne continued quickly, afraid of the silence. “When he heard… when he heard that you couldn’t walk again, he collapsed. It was sudden. He went into a coma.”

Audrey’s lips parted slightly. She drew in a slow breath.

“He’s alive,” Yvonne rushed to add. “He’s alive, Audrey. But it’s serious. Very serious.”

Audrey stared at the ceiling. Her face didn’t change.

“They moved him immediately,” Yvonne said, pacing now, her words tumbling out. “with the private jet. He’s now with the best doctors, he’s in India. A specialist hospital. They said that’s where he has the highest chance.”

India, Audrey thought distantly. So far away.

“He’s being attended to right now,” Yvonne went on. “I saw him on video call, they were machines, doctors everywhere. They’re doing everything they can.”

Audrey closed her eyes. She didn’t cry. No sound came from her throat. Her chest tightened, but she held it in, letting the pain sit where it wanted.

“Izo kept asking for you,” Yvonne said softly. “Before he lost consciousness, he kept saying your name. We saw the CCTV footage.”

Audrey exhaled slowly. The breath shook as it left her lungs, but that was all. No tears followed. Just air.

Yvonne leaned closer. “Audrey… say something.”

Audrey opened her eyes again. “How long?” she asked.

“They don’t know,” Yvonne said. “Comas are unpredictable.”

Another slow breath. Audrey nodded once, barely noticeable.

“I should pack,” Yvonne said. “We should prepare to…”

“No,” Audrey interrupted.

Yvonne froze. “No?”

“Leave,” Audrey said quietly.

Yvonne stared at her. “What?”

“I need you to leave,” Audrey repeated, her voice calm but firm. “Please.”

Yvonne shook her head. “Audrey, you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I am alone,” Audrey said. “Even when you’re here.”

The words stung. Yvonne’s eyes filled, but she tried to hide it. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“I know,” Audrey said. “But I need quiet.”

Yvonne hesitated. “At least let me…”

“Leave,” Audrey said again, this time sharper.

Silence stretched between them. Finally, Yvonne nodded slowly. “I’ll be nearby,” she said. “If you need me.”

Audrey didn’t respond.

Yvonne turned and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Audrey remained still, staring ahead, the weight of the news pressing down on her chest. Her husband lay unconscious in another country because of her. Because of what had happened to her body. The thought settled deep, heavy and suffocating.

She closed her eyes again and let another long breath escape.

The kitchen was alive with the quiet rhythm of morning chores. Water ran steadily in the sink, plates clinked softly, and the smell of detergent mixed with leftover food from the night before. Lorrine stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing dishes with mechanical focus.

Her face was blank, her movements steady.

Yvonne entered the kitchen and stopped a few feet away, watching her for a moment. “Lorrine,” she said.

Lorrine didn’t turn around. She kept washing.

“Did you hear me?” Yvonne asked.

“I heard you,” Lorrine replied flatly.

Yvonne crossed her arms. “Audrey knows,” she said.

Lorrine paused for a second, then continued scrubbing. “Knows what?”

“That you and Gwen poisoned her,” Yvonne said. “And soon, I’ll prove it.”

Lorrine finally turned off the tap and faced her. Her expression was unreadable. “You talk too much,” she said calmly. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You won’t get away with it,” Yvonne snapped. “Not you. Not Gwen. I’m watching both of you.”

Lorrine shrugged. “You’ve been watching since day one. What has it changed?”

Yvonne stepped closer. “Everything. You think lies last forever? They don’t.”

Lorrine looked at her, eyes cold. “You don’t have proof and I really didn’t do anything.”

“I will,” Yvonne said. “And when I do, you’ll regret ever stepping into that kitchen.”

Lorrine turned back to the sink. “I’m busy,” she said. “If you’re done threatening me, let me work.”

Yvonne stared at her, anger burning behind her eyes. “This isn’t over.”

Lorrine didn’t respond.

Yvonne turned and walked out of the kitchen, her footsteps quick and sharp against the floor. Lorrine kept washing the dishes, her hands steady, her face calm, as if nothing had been said at all.