Chapter 3: The Woman Who Wanted Him Buried
I didn't remember sitting down.
One moment, I was standing in the hospital corridor holding the document.
The next, my knees had given way, and I was staring at the floor.
Margaret had signed the instruction.
Keep him sedated until further notice.
My mother-in-law had arranged my husband's funeral while he was still alive.
And she had done it without telling me.
"Mommy?""
Ellie's small voice brought me back.
I quickly folded the paper.
"Yes, sweetheart?""
"Are we going to see Daddy?""
I looked at her face.
There was a faint red mark on her cheek from where she had rested against my shoulder in the ambulance.
"Yes, baby.""
She held out Nathan's wedding ring.
"Can Daddy wear this again?""
I closed my fingers around the ring.
"One day, sweetheart.""
Then I stood and called Dr. Price back.
"Tell me everything.""
He asked me to come to Northbridge immediately.
I refused.
"My husband is at St. Mary's. I'm not taking him anywhere until I understand what's happening.""
"That's reasonable," he replied.
"But I need you to know that Northbridge received a request yesterday to transfer him into long-term neurological care.""
"From whom?""
"Margaret Harper.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did she have legal authority?""
"She presented documents indicating she was acting as his medical proxy.""
"That's impossible. I'm his wife.""
"According to the documents she provided, you had been unavailable and had allegedly agreed to let her make medical decisions.""
I nearly laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the lie was so outrageous that my mind couldn't process it.
"I never signed anything.""
"I believe you, Mrs. Harper.""
"Then why did your hospital accept her documents?""
"That's now part of our internal investigation.""
I looked toward the emergency room.
"Can you send me copies?""
"Yes. But I recommend that you contact an attorney immediately.""
After the call ended, I sat beside Ellie.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Margaret.
*Please don't make a scene at the hospital. Nathan's situation is complicated. Come home and we'll discuss it.*
I stared at the message.
Then I typed:
*Did you know he was alive when you arranged his funeral?*
The typing indicator appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally, a reply arrived.
*You don't understand what he did.*
I felt cold all over.
Before I could respond, another message came through.
*And you don't know what he was planning to tell you.*
I read it again.
Then I called her.
She answered on the fourth ring.
"Claire, please.""
"What did Nathan do?""
"I can't explain this over the phone.""
"Did you poison him?""
Silence.
Then Margaret spoke in a sharp whisper.
"Don't ever accuse me of something like that.""
"Then explain the documents.""
"I was trying to protect this family.""
"From what?""
"From Nathan.""
I stared at the wall.
"What does that mean?""
"Your husband wasn't the man you thought he was.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You're standing in the middle of a lie, Margaret. You arranged his funeral while he was breathing.""
"I did what I had to do.""
The words hit me like a slap.
"You admit it?""
Margaret exhaled.
"Claire, listen carefully. Nathan was going to destroy everything. The company, the family, your future. He was making decisions that would have left you and Ellie with nothing.""
"What company?""
"Harper Financial.""
Nathan had mentioned problems at work, but he had never told me he was planning to leave the business.
I asked, "What did he discover?""
Margaret didn't answer.
Instead, she said, "Come home.""
"No.""
"Claire—"
"I'm not leaving my husband.""
"You may not have a choice.""
Then she hung up.
I sat motionless.
The woman who had helped me choose flowers for Nathan's funeral had just threatened me.
At 1:15 p.m., Dr. Miller came out of the emergency room.
"Mrs. Harper?""
I stood so quickly that my chair fell backward.
"How is he?""
"He's stable enough to undergo further testing. His heart rhythm is improving.""
"Can I see him?""
"Briefly.""
I followed her through two sets of doors.
Nathan lay in a hospital bed surrounded by monitors.
An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose.
His hair was messy now.
There was a small bandage on his left arm.
But he was alive.
I approached slowly.
"Hi, sweetheart," I whispered, although he couldn't answer.
I touched his hand.
It was warm.
For the first time in three days, my husband's skin was warm.
I began crying.
"I'm here, Nathan. Ellie is here. You need to come back to us.""
Dr. Miller stood quietly behind me.
Then she spoke.
"We've found something unusual in his blood.""
I wiped my cheeks.
"What?""
"An unusually high concentration of a sedative combined with another substance that appears to have suppressed his neurological responses.""
"Could it make him look dead?""
"In certain circumstances, especially when combined with severe hypothermia, it could make someone extremely difficult to assess without specialized testing.""
I looked at Nathan.
"Was he deliberately given that substance?""
"We can't establish intent yet.""
"But someone did this to him.""
"That is a possibility we're taking very seriously.""
I squeezed his hand.
"Whoever did this wanted him to disappear.""
Dr. Miller didn't disagree.
Then Nathan's fingers moved.
I leaned closer.
"Nathan?""
His eyelids fluttered.
Once.
Twice.
His eyes opened a fraction.
"Baby?""
His gaze wandered.
Then it found mine.
I started crying again.
"Nathan, it's me.""
His breathing became uneven.
His fingers tightened around mine.
I leaned closer.
"You're safe. You're in the hospital.""
He struggled to move his mouth beneath the oxygen mask.
Dr. Miller adjusted it.
"Mr. Harper, can you hear me?""
Nathan blinked.
"Do you know where you are?""
He tried to speak.
A faint sound escaped his throat.
I bent closer.
"It's okay. Take your time.""
His eyes moved toward the door.
His expression changed.
Fear.
Raw, unmistakable fear.
He grabbed my wrist.
"Don't...""
I leaned closer.
"What, sweetheart?""
His voice was barely audible.
"Don't let...""
He swallowed painfully.
"Don't let her...""
His eyes shifted toward the doorway again.
I turned.
A woman stood outside the glass.
Margaret.
She was wearing the same black dress from the funeral.
Her purse hung from her arm.
She was watching us.
Nathan's grip tightened.
"Mom..."" he whispered.
I turned back.
"Your mother?""
He nodded weakly.
Then he forced out three more words.
"She wasn't alone.""
Before I could ask what he meant, the heart monitor began beeping rapidly.
Dr. Miller rushed forward.
"Mr. Harper, try to stay calm!""
Nathan's eyes rolled shut.
I stepped back as the medical team surrounded him.
Through the glass, Margaret was already walking away.
I ran into the corridor.
"Margaret!""
She stopped.
Slowly, she turned.
"Claire, this isn't the time.""
I blocked her path.
"Who was with you?""
Her expression remained perfectly controlled.
"Move.""
"Nathan said you weren't alone.""
For the first time, something flickered across her face.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
She looked at the room behind me.
Then she leaned close enough for only me to hear.
"You should have let them bury him.""
My entire body went cold.
I stepped backward.
Margaret straightened her dress.
"Go home, Claire.""
"No.""
She gave me a small, humorless smile.
"Then perhaps you should ask your husband what happened to his business partner.""
I frowned.
"What business partner?""
Margaret reached into her purse and removed a photograph.
She placed it in my hand.
It showed Nathan standing outside a restaurant, smiling beside a younger man in a navy suit.
I recognized the man immediately.
It was Daniel Price.
The doctor who had called me from Northbridge.
But that wasn't the strangest part.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Three days before Nathan's supposed accident.
And beneath the date was a sentence in Nathan's handwriting:
*If anything happens to me, Claire must never trust Daniel.*
I looked up.
Margaret was gone.
May you like
And suddenly, I had a new question.
If Daniel Price had been helping investigate what happened to Nathan, why had my husband warned me never to trust him?
