My husband had abandoned me during labor to be with another woman.
And the women who had poisoned half my life needed me to save theirs.
I lifted my head slowly. “Get the lawyer’s number.”
Patricia blinked. “What?”
“The estate lawyer,” I said. “Write down his number.”
Her shoulders relaxed with visible relief. She thought I was giving in.
“I knew you’d come to your senses,” she said, already reaching into her purse for a pen.
“I didn’t say I was signing anything.”
Her hand stopped.
Vanessa watched me differently now, as if she were seeing me clearly for the first time.
I took the paper from my mother after she wrote the number down, then pointed to the door. “Leave.”
Patricia’s face hardened again. “Melanie, don’t be dramatic.”
“Leave,” I repeated. “Or I’ll call hospital security and tell them two women I don’t trust are harassing me and my child.”
For once, she understood I meant it.
Vanessa grabbed her arm and led her out before she could escalate. At the doorway, my sister turned back. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice low and raw. “About yesterday. About everything.”
Then she was gone.
The moment the door shut, I called the nurse. When she came in, one look at my face was enough.
“I need the hospital social worker,” I said. “And I need to make sure no visitors come in unless I approve them first.”
