Chapter 7 - The Woman Who Remembered Everything|
Fiona opened her eyes on the fifth morning after the collision.
At first, the world was only light, shadows, and unfamiliar sounds.
Something ached deep behind her forehead.
Her throat felt raw.
She tried to move and discovered that even lifting her hand required more strength than she possessed.
A woman's voice reached her through the confusion.
"Fiona?"
She recognized the voice before she could focus her eyes.
Elena.
Her sister appeared beside the bed, covering her mouth with both hands.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Fiona tried to speak.
Only a faint sound escaped.
"Don't push yourself," Elena whispered.
"You're in the hospital."
Fiona blinked.
Fragments of memory flashed through her mind.
Rain on the windshield.
A ringing telephone.
Headlights behind her.
The horrible sensation of her car being struck from the side.
Then darkness.
Her pulse quickened.
Elena noticed immediately.
"You're safe right now."
"The doctors are here."
Fiona attempted another word.
"June."
Elena leaned closer.
"June is safe."
"She's with Peter, and we've made sure she has somewhere secure to stay."
Fiona closed her eyes.
A tear slipped into her hair.
"She misses you," Elena continued.
"She's been asking when she can tell you about her plants."
A weak smile appeared on Fiona's face.
A nurse entered and began checking her vital signs.
Fiona had been taken off the ventilator after the medical team determined she could breathe independently, but she remained seriously injured.
She would need continued neurological observation and rehabilitation.
Dr. Mitchell explained this gently when he visited later that morning.
"You've been through a significant trauma, Ms. Ellis," he said.
"Recovery may take time, and we'll need to see how your symptoms develop."
Fiona listened.
She understood that the headache, exhaustion, and difficulty concentrating might not disappear quickly.
But her thoughts kept returning to one question.
"Did they catch him?" she whispered.
Dr. Mitchell glanced toward Elena.
"That's something the investigators can discuss with you when you're ready."
Fiona turned her head toward her sister.
"Dominic?"
Elena went still.
"What about him?"
"Does he know?"
Elena pulled her chair closer.
"Yes."
Fiona's eyes filled with tears.
"About June?"
Elena hesitated.
"Yes."
For several moments, Fiona stared at the ceiling.
Five years of memories seemed to move behind her exhausted eyes.
She remembered leaving Chicago with a suitcase and less than two thousand dollars.
She remembered sitting on the floor of her Detroit apartment, holding a positive pregnancy test in trembling hands.
She remembered writing Dominic a letter she hoped would reach the man she had once loved.
And she remembered waiting for an answer that never came.
"Did he ask?" Fiona whispered.
"About her?"
Fiona nodded.
"Yes," Elena said.
"He asked whether June was his."
Fiona turned away.
The movement hurt, but she couldn't bear to let Elena see the expression on her face.
"Of course he did," she murmured.
Elena reached for her hand.
"He says he never received your letters."
Fiona gave a faint, humorless laugh.
"He always had an explanation."
Outside the room, Dominic stood beside the nurses' station.
He had been told Fiona was awake, but Elena had asked him not to enter until Fiona decided whether she wanted visitors.
He had accepted the request immediately.
For nearly an hour, he watched hospital staff move between rooms while trying not to imagine what Fiona might say when she saw him.
Finally, Elena appeared.
"She knows you're here."
Dominic stood.
"Does she want me to leave?"
Elena studied him.
"No."
Hope rose painfully in his chest.
"She wants to speak to you."
Dominic followed Elena to Room 304.
When he entered, Fiona was lying with her head slightly elevated.
Her hair was tangled against the pillow.
Bruises still marked her face.
An oxygen tube rested beneath her nose.
But her eyes were open.
For five years, Dominic had imagined seeing those eyes again.
He had imagined anger, indifference, or perhaps the calm expression of a woman who had completely forgotten him.
He had never imagined the exhaustion in them now.
"Fiona."
She watched him approach.
"Don't," she whispered.
He stopped immediately.
"Don't what?"
"Don't look at me like that."
Dominic swallowed.
"Like what?"
"Like you just lost me."
The words nearly broke him.
"I almost did."
Fiona looked toward the window.
"You lost me five years ago."
Dominic lowered his gaze.
"You're right."
She turned back, clearly surprised by his response.
"I thought you'd tell me it was for my own good."
"I did tell myself that."
"And?"
"I was wrong."
Fiona's breathing became slightly uneven.
Dominic took a step backward, concerned he was upsetting her.
"I can leave," he said.
"No."
She closed her eyes briefly.
"Stay long enough to answer something."
"Anything."
She opened her eyes.
"Did you know I was pregnant?"
Dominic felt the question like a blow.
"No."
"Did you know I wrote to you?"
"No."
Her expression hardened.
"I sent two letters before June was born."
"And another after."
Dominic pressed his fingers against his forehead.
"Fiona, I swear I never saw them."
She studied him for several seconds.
"Then somebody made sure you didn't."
"I think so."
"Who?"
"Someone I trusted."
Fiona turned her head toward the door.
"Graham Pike."
Dominic froze.
"You knew?"
She gave a tiny nod.
"He came to Detroit."
The room seemed to grow colder.
"When?"
"Two years ago."
Dominic slowly approached the bed but stopped several feet away.
"What did he say?"
Fiona's eyes filled with tears.
"He said you knew about June."
Dominic shook his head.
"He said you didn't want your name on her birth certificate."
"Fiona."
"He said if I kept trying to contact you, people would start asking questions about our daughter."
Dominic closed his eyes.
For two years, Fiona had lived believing he had rejected not only her but their child.
"I didn't send him," he whispered.
Fiona watched him carefully.
"Then why did he know where we lived?"
Dominic had no answer that could erase the damage.
"Because I trusted the wrong person."
Fiona's eyes glistened.
"And because you decided I didn't deserve to know the truth five years ago."
He nodded.
"Yes."
A long silence followed.
Finally, Dominic spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Fiona looked toward the photograph of June beside her bed.
"I needed you when I was twenty-eight and terrified."
"I needed you when June was born six weeks early."
"I needed you when she had a fever at three in the morning and I didn't know whether to call an ambulance."
Dominic couldn't stop the tears that began sliding down his face.
"I know," he whispered.
"No," Fiona replied.
"You know about those things now."
"That's different from having been there."
He bowed his head.
She closed her eyes, exhausted by the conversation.
Dominic stepped toward the door.
Then Fiona spoke again.
"Dominic."
He turned.
"I didn't come back to Chicago because I wanted you to save me."
"I understand."
"I came because people were stealing from clinics that couldn't afford to lose a dollar."
"And because Vincent believed he had the proof."
Dominic nodded slowly.
"The police know."
Fiona looked directly at him.
"Then tell them to check the invoices against the actual delivery records."
"We're doing that."
"And Dominic?"
"Yes?"
Her voice was barely audible.
"Don't make this another secret you keep because you think you're protecting me."
He looked at the woman he had once loved enough to destroy their future.
"I won't."
Fiona held his gaze.
"Good."
Then she said the words that changed everything.
"Because Graham wasn't just working for Lorenzo Moretti."
Dominic waited.
"He was using your name to make me afraid."
May you like
And for the first time, Dominic understood that the greatest betrayal in his life had not been committed against his power.
It had been committed against the people who had trusted him to use that power responsibly.
