Chapter 7: The Thing She Came to Finish
I called Marcus from the stairwell.
"She visited her," I said.
"Three days ago.
Posed as a volunteer.
I have a photograph."
"Send it."
I forwarded Elodie Crane's photo while I talked.
"She asked her if anyone knew she was in the hospital.
She was checking whether she was isolated."
"Daniel." Marcus's voice was careful.
"That's not just intimidation.
If she was planning to — "
"I know what it is."
"You need to go to hospital security.
Today.
Now."
"I know."
"And you need to keep your mother away from both floors until this is sorted."
"She's coming back this morning.
She may already be here."
"Go."
I went.
The security office was on the ground floor, behind the main reception.
A man named Hargreaves listened to me with the particular expression of someone who has heard concerning things before but rarely this concerning.
I showed him the photograph on my phone.
I told him about the three incidents on the fourth floor.
I gave him my mother's name and description.
He made two calls while I sat across from him.
"We'll flag her at the entrance," he said.
"She won't be permitted past reception without your authorization."
"What about the woman on three?
Elodie Crane?"
"I'll have someone posted outside her room today.
We'll coordinate with her care team."
I nodded.
"Is there anything else you can tell me about why this person would — "
"It's a legal matter," I said.
"She stands to lose money if the woman on three pursues a civil claim."
Hargreaves wrote something down.
I went back upstairs.
My mother was already on the fourth floor.
She was standing at the nurses' station when I came through the door, her coat still on, her bag over her arm, speaking to the ward clerk in the pleasant, slightly authoritative way she had always spoken to people she considered beneath her.
"— just need to check in on my granddaughter, I won't be a moment — "
"Ma'am." The ward clerk looked past her at me.
"Sir, is this — "
"Yes," I said.
My mother turned.
For a moment we just looked at each other across the width of the corridor.
"You flagged me," she said.
"Yes."
"Daniel, this is — "
"You went to her room," I said.
"Three days ago.
You pretended to be a volunteer.
You asked her if anyone knew she was there."
Her expression didn't break.
That was the thing about my mother.
She had spent sixty-eight years deciding which face to show and when.
She was very good at it.
"I wanted to see what kind of person she was," she said.
"Before things went further.
That is not a crime."
"You were checking whether she was alone.
Whether anyone would notice."
"That is a disgusting accusation."
"Then explain what you were planning to do."
"I was going to speak with her." Her voice dropped.
"Reasonably.
Woman to woman.
Explain the situation.
Offer her something."
"Offer her what?"
She glanced at the ward clerk, who had gone very still.
"Not here," my mother said.
"Here," I said.
"Exactly here."
She pressed her lips together.
"A settlement.
Private.
Enough to cover her medical costs and a little more.
In exchange for withdrawing the inquiry."
"And if she said no?"
Silence.
"Mom.
If she said no, what were you going to do?"
"I was going to make her understand," she said carefully, "that pursuing this would not end well for her."
"She's nineteen years old.
She just had surgery.
She has no family here."
"Which is precisely why a quiet settlement would have been better for everyone."
"You were going to threaten her."
"I was going to be practical."
The ward clerk had picked up the phone.
I looked at my mother — really looked at her — and tried to find the woman who had packed my school lunches and sat beside me when I had my tonsils out at age six and cried at my wedding even though she had never liked my ex-wife.
She was in there somewhere.
She had always been in there.
But so had this.
"Security is going to escort you out," I said.
"Don't come back to this floor.
Don't go near the third floor.
Don't contact Elodie Crane."
"You can't — "
"I can.
I just did." I took a breath.
"And Mom — I'm going to help her.
I'm going to help her get what Dad wanted her to have."
My mother's face finally moved.
Something cracked behind the eyes, just slightly, like a hairline fracture in good china.
"You would do that to your own family," she said.
"Dad was her family too."
She stood there for another moment.
Then she picked up her bag, straightened her coat, and walked toward the elevator without looking back.
The ward clerk set the phone down.
"Security is on their way up," she said quietly.
"Thank you," I said.
I walked back to Elodie's room.
My daughter was sitting up, the rabbit in her lap, watching the door.
"Is Grandma gone?" she said.
"Yes, sweetheart."
She looked at me for a moment.
Then she held the rabbit out toward me.
"You can hold him," she said.
May you like
"If you want."
I sat down beside her and took the rabbit and held it, and didn't say anything, and neither did she.
