Chapter 6 - What the Scan Revealed
Dr. Patel showed me the image twenty minutes later.
Mia had a tiny hairline fracture near her wrist.
It was stable.
It would heal.
But she needed a cast.
I sat beside her while he wrapped her arm.
Mia watched quietly.
“Purple?”
Dr. Patel smiled.
“Purple it is.”
She looked at me.
“Mommy, can I draw on it?”
“As much as you want.”
She smiled.
That tiny smile almost destroyed me.
Because my daughter was trying to make something fun out of an injury caused by someone who was supposed to love her.
When we returned to the villa, Sarah was waiting outside.
Alone.
Her makeup was gone.
The wedding robe had been replaced with sweatpants and a T-shirt.
For the first time that weekend, she looked like my little sister instead of a bride performing for cameras.
“Elena.”
I stopped.
“What?”
She looked at Mia’s cast.
Her face changed.
“I didn’t know it was broken.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Mia moved closer to me.
Sarah noticed.
That hurt her.
Good.
It needed to.
“I want to apologize.”
I looked at Mia.
“You don’t owe anyone a conversation.”
Mia remained silent.
Sarah crouched several feet away.
“Mia.”
“I did something terrible.”
“I was angry about my dress.”
“But dresses can be replaced.”
“What I did to you was wrong.”
Mia stared at her.
Then she asked the simplest question imaginable.
“Why did you push me?”
Sarah’s eyes filled.
“I don’t have a good answer.”
Mia looked down.
“I thought you loved me.”
Sarah covered her mouth.
I felt no satisfaction watching my sister cry.
Only sadness.
Because some things could not be repaired by tears.
I took Mia inside.
Sarah didn’t follow.
Later that evening, Mr. Bennett brought the preliminary audit.
The fraudulent charges were worse than expected.
Greg had used the wedding account to pay personal debts.
A watch.
A leased sports car deposit.
Private club fees.
A business loan.
Even part of the honeymoon.
Total unauthorized charges so far?
$412,000.
But there was another problem.
One payment stood out.
$95,000.
Transferred to a consulting company called Blue Meridian Strategies.
I recognized the address.
It belonged to Greg’s father.
I looked at Bennett.
“Call our attorney.”
“Already done.”
My phone rang again.
Dad.
This time I answered.
“Elena.”
His voice sounded different.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Greg is gone.”
I stood.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“He took one of the resort boats.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
I looked toward the window.
Night had fallen over the Indian Ocean.
May you like
A storm was approaching from the east.
And Greg had just fled the island carrying whatever secrets he was desperate to keep hidden.
