Chapter 96: The sedan returned

“The sedan returned.”

It was parked across the street, engine off, windows dark. I spotted it through the blinds at 7 AM. Beck was still asleep, his face soft, unguarded. I let him rest. This was my fight.

The text from last night was still on my phone. “One last time. Come alone.” I deleted it, but the words stayed burned into my thoughts.

I slipped out of bed and dressed in silence. Jeans, hoodie, sneakers. I wrote Beck a note and left it on the pillow. “Don't follow me. I'll be back before you wake up.”

The sedan's door opened as I approached. A woman stepped out. Not Margaret. Younger. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, expensive coat.

“You must be Ivy.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Diana. I work for your grandmother.” She opened the back door. “She's waiting.”

“Then she can come to me.”

Diana smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. “She's dying, Ivy. Lung cancer. She has months, maybe weeks. She wants to see you before the end.”

The air left my lungs. “You're lying.”

“I wish I was.”

I got in the car. Diana drove. The city blurred past. We ended up at a hospital, not Margaret's house. White walls, antiseptic smell, hushed voices.

Margaret was in a private room, hooked up to machines. She looked smaller than before, frailer. Her eyes were still sharp.

“You came.”

“You said you were dying.”

“I am.” She gestured to the chair beside the bed. “Sit.”

I didn't sit. “Why am I here?”

“To say goodbye. To tell you the truth before I go.” She coughed, a wet, rattling sound. “Vanessa isn't just my goddaughter. She's my daughter. Your mother's half-sister.”

The floor tilted. “What?”

“I had her when I was young. Before your grandmother. I gave her up for adoption, but I never lost touch.” Margaret's voice was thin. “She's been helping me for years. Watching you. Protecting you.”

“She tried to destroy Beck.”

“She was trying to test him. To see if he was worthy of you.”

“That's not her choice.”

“No.” Margaret closed her eyes. “It's yours.”

I stood there, frozen. The machines beeped. A nurse checked the IV.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I'm tired of secrets.” Margaret opened her eyes. “I've spent my whole life controlling people. Your mother. Celeste's mother. Vanessa. I thought if I could keep everyone in line, I could keep them safe.”

“You killed Celeste's mother.”

“I made sure she couldn't talk. There's a difference.”

“Not to Celeste.”

Margaret reached for my hand. I let her take it. Her fingers were cold.

“I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for you to understand. I did what I thought was necessary.”

“That doesn't make it right.”

“No. It doesn't.” She released my hand. “Vanessa will stop. I've told her to. The articles, the digging, the threats. It's over.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“Then you have my permission to destroy her.”

I stared at her. “I don't need your permission.”

She smiled. It was sad, almost tender. “You really are your mother's daughter.”

“I'm not her.”

“No. You're better.”

I walked out of the hospital into gray sunlight. Diana was waiting by the sedan.

“Take me home.”

She nodded. The drive was silent.

When we pulled up to Beck's apartment, he was standing on the sidewalk, phone in hand, eyes wild.

“I woke up and you were gone.”

“I had to see her.”

“You should have told me.”

“You would have tried to stop me.”

“Yes.” He pulled me into a hug. “Don't ever do that again.”

I didn't answer. I just held on.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it.

“What is it?”

“The draft lottery. I'm projected top ten.” He looked at me. “They want me in New York next week. For the draft.”

“That's amazing.”

“It's terrifying.”

He kissed me. Not soft. His lips were urgent, desperate.

A car door slammed across the street.

Vanessa was standing there, camera around her neck.

“Congratulations, Beckett. The world is watching now.”

She smiled.

Then she raised her camera and took a photo.

The flash blinded me.

When my vision cleared, she was gone.

But I knew she'd be back.

She always was.