Chapter 7: What Sarah Had Done
He was in a hospital forty miles away.
Ruth drove.
Maya sat in the passenger seat with Gerald's copy of the financial documents in her lap, not reading them, just holding them.
The motorway was quiet for a Thursday morning.
Ruth kept both hands on the wheel and didn't try to fill the silence, which was the right thing to do.
The officer who had taken Maya's statement called while they were driving.
She spoke carefully, like someone choosing each word before releasing it.
"Your father was found Tuesday evening at a petrol station off the A-road outside Halford.
He was disoriented and had been there for several hours before a member of staff called an ambulance.
He had no phone, no wallet, no identification." A pause.
"There were traces of a sedative in his system.
He's been in hospital since Tuesday night.
He's stable.
He's been asking for you."
Maya heard the words *sedative* and *stable* and *asking for you* and felt them land in different parts of her body at different speeds.
"Why didn't the hospital contact us?" Ruth asked, her voice tight.
"His emergency contact on file was his wife," the officer said.
"The hospital called that number Tuesday night and again Wednesday morning.
They were told the family was aware and that arrangements were being made."
Ruth's hands tightened on the wheel.
"Sarah knew," Maya said.
"She knew the whole time."
"We are speaking with Mrs.
Calloway now," the officer said.
"I can't give you more detail than that at this stage.
But I want you to know — what you brought in this morning, the financial records, the letter from the solicitor — it matters.
It's moving things forward."
Maya thanked her and ended the call.
They drove the rest of the way without speaking.
Her father was in a room on the second floor, by the window.
He looked smaller than she remembered — thinner in the face, with a drip in his arm and a bruise along his left temple that she hadn't been told about.
But his eyes were open.
And when Maya walked through the door, they found her immediately, and his whole face changed.
"Maya." His voice was rough and low.
She crossed the room and took his hand and didn't say anything for a long moment.
His fingers closed around hers — tight, like he was checking she was real.
"I'm here," she said.
"I've got you."
"Ruth—" He looked past Maya.
"Right here, Daniel." Ruth came to the other side of the bed and took his other hand.
"Don't try to talk yet."
"Sarah—"
"We know," Ruth said.
"The police know.
Gerald has the documents.
It's being handled."
He closed his eyes.
His grip on Maya's hand didn't loosen.
"She put something in my coffee," he said.
"Monday night.
I woke up in the car.
I didn't know where I was.
I couldn't—" He stopped.
"My phone was gone.
My wallet was gone.
I walked to the nearest lights I could find."
"The petrol station," Maya said.
"I kept trying to tell them who I was.
I don't think I was making sense." He opened his eyes and looked at her.
"How long?"
"Three days."
Something moved across his face.
"She told you I left."
"Yes."
"Maya, I would never—"
"I know," Maya said.
"I know, Dad.
I never believed her."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said: "The blue tin."
"Gerald told me.
I read your letter."
His eyes went bright.
He turned his head away for a moment, toward the window, and Maya gave him that moment without filling it.
Then he looked back.
"Is Lily okay?"
"She pushed chicken through the door gap for me," Maya said.
"She's okay."
A sound came out of him — half laugh, half something else entirely.
"That's my girl," he said.
It wasn't clear which one of them he meant.
Maybe both.
Outside the room, in the corridor, Maya could hear Ruth on her phone — speaking to Gerald, or the police, or both, her voice low and steady and completely in control.
The drip beside the bed made a small regular sound.
The window showed a flat grey sky and the top of a car park.
Maya stayed where she was, her father's hand in hers, and didn't move.
In her jacket pocket, her phone buzzed.
A message from the officer.
*Sarah Calloway has been taken in for formal questioning.
Financial crimes unit has been notified.
We'll be in touch.*
Maya read it.
Put the phone back in her pocket.
May you like
Her father had fallen into a light sleep, his breathing evening out.
She didn't let go of his hand.
