Chapter 30 Nothing but Lies
Rufus had gone, leaving the house in a suffocating silence.
Cecilia wanted to leave too, to get away from the air that felt heavy and hostile, but the sharp pain radiating through her body pinned her in place.
It was the same instinct she had in the hospital—curling in on herself, as if making her body smaller might somehow make the pain smaller too.
She lay there on the cold floor, unsure how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? It didn't matter. The pain eventually overwhelmed her, dragging her down into unconsciousness.
When she came to, it was deep into the night. The moon hung high outside the window, casting silver light across the room.
Cecilia pushed herself upright with effort. A nerve in her ankle must have been pinched, because every step made her limp. She moved toward the cabinet where she kept her pain medication, each step slow and halting.
It was only about sixty feet away, but in her current state, it felt like a distance she might never cross.
Every jolt of movement sent a fresh wave of agony through her, forcing her to draw in sharp breaths. Still, she kept going.
By the time she reached the cabinet, sweat was running down her face. Her hands trembled as she opened the door… only to find it empty.
Her mind reeled. She remembered clearly putting the medication there.
"Niamh! Niamh!" Her voice cracked as she called for the housekeeper.
The woman slept heavily. Cecilia called again and again, but got no answer. She gritted her teeth and raised her voice. After what felt like forever, a groggy reply came from somewhere down the hall.
Ten minutes later, Niamh appeared, shrugging into a coat and muttering under her breath.
Cecilia couldn't catch the exact words, but the tone was far from kind.
"What is it, Mrs. Chapman?" Niamh yawned, covering her mouth. "Why aren't you asleep at this hour?"
Cecilia ignored the question. "Where's the medication I left in this cabinet?"
Niamh blinked, still half-asleep. She thought for a moment, then said, "Mr. Chapman told the staff to take all of it when he left today."
Cecilia bit her lip. "Could you go out and buy me some painkillers? Please?"
She hated asking, but the pain was becoming unbearable.
Niamh's expression hardened. "Mrs. Chapman, that's not fair to me. If Mr. Chapman took it, it's because he doesn't want you to have it. You telling me to buy more is basically asking me to risk my job. And where am I supposed to get it at this time of night? You'll just have to tough it out."
She yawned again, eyes already closing.
Cecilia knew she couldn't rely on her. She thanked Niamh quietly and told her to go back to bed.
She tried to do as Niamh suggested—tried to believe she could endure it—but lying in bed only made the pain worse. Sleep was impossible.
So she reached for the phone in her bedroom and dialed Rufus.
The first call rang for a long time with no answer. She clenched her jaw and dialed again. This time, the call was cut off immediately.
Desperation clawed at her, but she dialed a third time.
Finally, the line connected. Silence. He was listening, waiting.
"Rufus, I know you're there," she said. "Why did you take all the pain medication from the house? Are you trying to kill me?"
She drew a deep breath, her voice almost a plea. "Please… bring it back. I'm begging you."
She didn't understand. She had been as compliant as she knew how to be, yet Rufus kept tightening the screws.
He laughed, low and cold. "You think too highly of yourself. Just because you beg doesn't mean I'm going to do what you want."
Her stomach dropped.
His voice was a blade. "Cecilia, I can't decide if you're stupid or cunning. You've been faking illness for months and almost made me believe it. And now, even though you know I've seen through it, you keep up the act. Are you betting I'll still feel sorry for you?"
The words hit her like a slap. He still thought she was faking?
Her chest tightened. Anyone would break under being accused over and over of something they hadn't done. What did Rufus see when he looked at her? A compulsive liar? A selfish manipulator? Maybe both.
She forced herself to breathe evenly. Now wasn't the time to fight—getting the medication was all that mattered.
"Rufus, I don't know why you've misunderstood me, but I am sick. After I collapsed, the doctor showed you the test results. They clearly said leukemia. How could I possibly alter a medical report?
"What reason would I have to lie to you? How would that benefit me?"
She had laid out her case with as much patience as she could muster.
To Rufus, it was nothing but another layer of deceit.
He gave a humorless chuckle. "Ms. Thorne, you underestimate yourself. Your influence is considerable. You managed to bribe a reporter to humiliate Blair at the auction—don't tell me bribing a doctor would be beyond you."
"I've told you again and again, that reporter wasn't working for me," she said, her voice taut.
Rufus only smiled faintly, saying nothing, but his disbelief was plain.
"Can you at least tell me why you think I'm pretending to be sick?" she asked, trying to go to the root of it.
"You've seen the report," he said. "Every indicator is normal. Does that sound like someone in late-stage leukemia?"
That was all it took for him to decide she was lying. The realization made her feel small and hollow.
"The report could be wrong," she said quietly. "Or maybe my body is healing slowly. But it doesn't mean I'm not ill. You won't even agree to a simple blood test."
"Is there any point?" His voice dripped with mockery.
She knew there was no way to reach him.
And then, from the other end, came Blair's drowsy voice. "Rufus… what are you doing?"
He had taken the call in the living room so as not to wake her. But now, seeing her there, he set the phone down without another word.