Chapter 45 Who Killed My Father
DAVID
Grandpa’s words churned in my mind, a tangle of questions and suspicions. He had avoided my gaze when I brought up my dad's meeting with Roy the meeting that ended in silence, my dad never returning.
The car engine hummed softly as I leaned back, staring out the window. My mother’s voice echoed in my thoughts. “Be careful with Roy if you want to investigate. I don’t want to lose a son.” Her hands trembled as she said it, her eyes pleading, filled with a fear that wasn’t hers alone but something passed down, something buried.
I clenched my fists. Whatever secrets they were keeping, I’d dig them up. All of them.
“Sam,” I said, breaking the silence. My assistant sat upright beside me, his tablet balanced on his lap.
“Yes, sir?”
“I need you to investigate something. Deeply. There’s a secret buried somewhere, and I need to know what it is. But…” I paused, glancing at him, “be careful. This is dangerous.”
His eyes widened a flicker of surprise, maybe fear but he nodded. “Understood.”
“I’ll assign you bodyguards. This stays between us.”
“Of course, sir.”
The car slowed to a stop outside the hospital. The driver turned, his face blank but alert. “We’ve arrived, sir.”
I stepped out, the crisp air biting against my face. “Cancel all my meetings for today,” I said over my shoulder to Sam.
“Yes, sir.”
The words felt foreign, wrong. I wasn’t the type to cancel work, let alone for something personal. But this wasn’t about me. Not anymore.
BELLA
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow across the hospital room. My workstation a small desk tucked into the corner was cluttered with files and my laptop, the screen glowing with half-finished charts. Elowen sat nearby, typing notes into the system, the soft tap of her keys blending with the faint beeps of the monitors.
“Bella,” David’s voice cut through the noise.
I turned, startled to see him standing in the doorway. His broad frame seemed out of place here, his usual confidence dimmed. Something about the tightness in his jaw, the shadows in his eyes, made my heart quicken.
“You’re back,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Warmth surged through me, but I held myself back, unsure.
He crossed the room in two strides, pulling me into his arms. His grip was firm, almost desperate.
“David,” I murmured, my cheek pressed against his chest. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer, just held me tighter. Over his shoulder, Elowen raised her eyebrows, silently asking if I was okay. I gave her a small nod, and she quietly slipped out, leaving us alone.
“Can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked, his voice low.
I nodded, resting my hands on his back. “Okay.”
His breath was warm against my hair, but something felt off. When I pulled back to look at him, his face was unreadable, his usual composure replaced with something raw and unguarded.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, searching his eyes.
Instead of answering, he turned to my desk, his fingers brushing over the scattered papers. “Don’t tell me you’re working.”
I sighed, already sensing the shift in conversation. “I’m just wrapping up a few things. The department is swamped.”
“You’re still recovering,” he said, his voice stern. “You should be resting.”
“I’m fine, David,” I replied, leaning against the desk. “We’re short-staffed. I can’t just sit around and let my team handle everything. That’s not how I work.”
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”
“And you’re just noticing?” I shot back, though my tone lacked its usual bite.
David stepped closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Jasper misses you.”
“I miss him too.” The thought of our son made my chest ache. “Let’s go home.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You need to recover first.”
I frowned. “Then let me visit my father.”
His expression shifted, his shoulders tensing. “Bella…”
“What is it?” I asked, my stomach knotting.
He hesitated, the seconds stretching unbearably. “The doctors are doing everything they can, but… your father might not make it.”
The world seemed to tilt. I gripped the edge of the desk to steady myself, the words echoing in my mind.
“No,” I whispered. “That’s not possible. He was getting better.”
David reached for me, but I stepped back, shaking my head. “They’re wrong. He has to survive.”
“Bella…”
I barely heard him. My thoughts were spinning, filled with images of my father smiling, laughing, guiding me through life. And then Lizzy’s smug face surfaced, and anger flared like a match struck in the dark.
“This is her fault,” I said, my voice trembling with rage. “I’ll make her pay. I’m done being the good girl.”
David’s brow furrowed, concern etched into his features, but I didn’t care. Whoever had hurt my father would regret it.