Chapter 3 — The Woman Who Was Supposed to Die
Chapter 3 — The Woman Who Was Supposed to Die
Vanessa learned that Khloe was alive at 6:17 the next morning.
She was sitting alone in the detention center when the television mounted high in the corner suddenly changed channels.
A news report appeared.
BREAKING: KHLOE HARRINGTON SURVIVES COURTHOUSE FALL
Vanessa stopped breathing.
The coffee cup slipped from her hand.
It shattered against the floor.
A guard looked over.
Vanessa didn't notice.
She stared at the screen.
A photograph of Khloe appeared.
Alive.
Pale.
But alive.
The reporter continued:
“Mrs. Harrington remains hospitalized following yesterday's traumatic fall. Her premature son is also alive and receiving intensive medical care…”
Vanessa whispered:
“No.”
Her heart began pounding.
“She was supposed to die.”
The guard approached.
“Ma'am?”
Vanessa backed away from the television.
“No…”
The reporter continued.
“Authorities are investigating whether the incident was deliberately orchestrated.”
Vanessa's face drained of color.
Then her phone rang.
A phone she wasn't supposed to have.
She stared at the number.
UNKNOWN.
She answered.
Nobody spoke.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
“You failed.”
Vanessa froze.
“Who is this?”
“You were given one job.”
“I didn't know she'd survive.”
“You were told what would happen.”
“I pushed her. She fell. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.”
Vanessa's fingers trembled.
“What do you want?”
“Silence.”
The line went dead.
The Second Message
That afternoon, Vanessa's attorney arrived.
She barely looked at him.
“Is Khloe really alive?”
“Yes.”
“Is the baby alive?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
The attorney placed a folder on the table.
“The prosecutor has charged you with aggravated assault.”
Vanessa said nothing.
“There's also an investigation into attempted homicide.”
She looked up.
“Attempted?”
“Yes.”
“So they think I tried to kill her.”
“You pushed an eight-month pregnant woman down thirty marble stairs.”
Vanessa's lips trembled.
“I didn't know she'd fall that far.”
The attorney stared at her.
“That's not going to help.”
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“Someone told me to do it.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“I can't.”
“Vanessa.”
“I can't.”
“Then you're going to prison.”
She looked toward the television.
Khloe's photograph was still there.
“No.”
The attorney sighed.
“Then tell me who ordered it.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“If I tell you, I'll never leave this building alive.”
The First Threat
At 8:03 p.m., Vanessa returned to her cell.
A folded piece of paper lay on her bed.
She hadn't seen anyone enter.
She opened it.
Six words.
YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE TOO.
Her hands went cold.
She looked toward the corridor.
“Guard?”
Nobody answered.
She unfolded the paper completely.
There was a photograph inside.
Vanessa.
Standing beside Richard.
Taken two months earlier.
On the back:
ONE WITNESS IS ENOUGH.
Vanessa's breathing became shallow.
She immediately called her lawyer.
No answer.
She called again.
Nothing.
Then her phone vibrated.
A text message.
Stop talking.
Another.
Stop asking questions.
Another.
Disappear before the trial.
Vanessa stared at the screen.
Then came the final message.
Or Khloe won't be the last woman who falls.
The Man in the Parking Garage
The next morning, Vanessa's attorney finally answered.
“You need to tell me everything.”
“I received threats.”
“What kind?”
“Someone wants me gone.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Did they identify themselves?”
“No.”
“Then we're going to report it.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“They'll kill me.”
“We need evidence.”
“I have evidence.”
“What?”
“The messages.”
He examined her phone.
His expression changed.
“These were sent through an encrypted service.”
“Can you trace it?”
“Not easily.”
“Then what do I do?”
“Tell the truth.”
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“You don't understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
Vanessa leaned forward.
“If I testify against Richard, his family will destroy me.”
“If you don't, the state will.”
She looked at him.
“Which one do you think is more dangerous?”
He didn't answer.
Richard's Visit
Richard was allowed to see Vanessa two days later.
The moment he entered the interview room, Vanessa stood.
“You lied to me.”
Richard looked exhausted.
“I didn't.”
“You said she'd survive.”
“I never said that.”
“You said the fall would scare her.”
“I didn't tell you to push her that hard.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“You told me to make her fall.”
Richard looked toward the camera.
“Lower your voice.”
“Why?”
“Because they're recording us.”
“Good.”
Richard stepped closer.
“Vanessa, listen to me.”
“No.”
“You need to stop talking.”
“I already received threats.”
Richard froze.
“What threats?”
“Someone wants me dead.”
His face changed.
“Who?”
“I thought you knew.”
“I don't.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Richard grabbed the edge of the table.
“I didn't order anyone to threaten you.”
“Then who did?”
Richard didn't answer.
Vanessa studied him.
“You're afraid.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Richard looked toward the door.
Then whispered:
“You don't understand what you've gotten involved in.”
“What did you make me do?”
He stared at her.
“You were never supposed to be involved.”
“Then why me?”
Richard's voice dropped.
“Because they needed someone disposable.”
Vanessa's face went pale.
“Who are they?”
Richard stood.
“I can't tell you.”
“Richard!”
He walked away.
Vanessa shouted after him:
“You're leaving me to die!”
He didn't turn around.
Harrison's Discovery
Across town, Harrison watched the same security footage.
He had obtained permission through the investigation.
His attention remained fixed on Richard's final expression.
Fear.
Not guilt.
Fear.
Marcus sat beside him.
“Something is wrong.”
Harrison nodded.
“Richard isn't running this.”
“You think he's being controlled?”
“Yes.”
“By Evelyn?”
“Possibly.”
“Then why threaten Vanessa?”
“Because she knows something.”
Marcus looked at the file.
“What?”
Harrison pointed to the photograph found in the envelope.
“The clinic.”
“Khloe's pregnancy.”
“Yes.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Vanessa knew before Richard did.”
Marcus frowned.
“How?”
“Someone told her.”
“So the person who paid her may be the person behind the attack.”
Harrison stood.
“Find out who.”
Khloe's Room
Khloe was awake when Harrison entered.
She looked toward the window.
“Harry?”
“Yes?”
“Why is everyone lying?”
Harrison sat beside her.
“What happened?”
“I heard the doctors talking.”
“About what?”
“The baby.”
His expression softened.
“He's stable.”
“That's not what they said.”
Harrison was silent.
Khloe looked at him.
“Is he Richard's?”
“I don't know.”
She closed her eyes.
“I was afraid you'd ask.”
“You don't have to tell me anything you're not ready to tell me.”
“I need to.”
She took a breath.
“Before I met Richard, I underwent fertility treatment.”
Harrison's expression changed.
“Why?”
“I thought I couldn't have children.”
“And?”
“The treatment worked.”
“Who was the donor?”
Khloe looked away.
“I don't know.”
Harrison stared at her.
“What?”
“The clinic told me the donor was anonymous.”
“Did Richard know?”
“No.”
“Does he know about the treatment?”
“I told him I was pregnant. I didn't tell him how.”
Harrison slowly stood.
“Then someone at that clinic knows the truth.”
Khloe nodded.
“And someone has been trying to keep it hidden.”
The Clinic
By evening, Marcus found the clinic.
It had closed two months earlier.
Its medical records had supposedly been transferred.
Supposedly.
Harrison stood inside the abandoned building.
Dust covered the reception desk.
Old files had been removed.
Computers were gone.
But one drawer remained locked.
Marcus forced it open.
Inside was a single patient file.
KHLOE HARRINGTON.
Harrison opened it.
The first pages contained standard fertility records.
Then he found a handwritten note.
DONOR ID: 7741
Below it:
SPECIAL INSTRUCTION — DO NOT DISCLOSE TO PATIENT.
Harrison's eyes narrowed.
“Who authorized this?”
Marcus pointed to the signature.
Harrison knew the name.
Dr. Samuel Reed.
The same doctor who had treated Evelyn Ward twenty-eight years earlier.
Harrison stared at the paper.
“That can't be a coincidence.”
The Second Woman
That night, Vanessa received another photograph.
This time, it wasn't of her.
It was of Khloe.
Taken inside the hospital.
Khloe was asleep.
Her baby was visible through the neonatal-unit window.
On the back:
WE CAN REACH HER ANYTIME.
Vanessa began crying.
She called the unknown number.
“Please.”
Silence.
“Don't hurt her.”
The voice answered:
“Then disappear.”
“I will.”
“Before the trial.”
“Yes.”
“You will leave the country.”
“Yes.”
“You will never contact Richard.”
“Yes.”
“You will never tell anyone what you know.”
Vanessa hesitated.
“What if I testify?”
The voice became colder.
“Then your little sister dies.”
Vanessa froze.
“My sister?”
“Yes.”
She sat down.
“You know where she lives.”
“We know everything.”
The line disconnected.
Vanessa covered her face.
She finally understood.
The threats weren't about protecting Richard.
They weren't even about protecting Evelyn.
Someone was cleaning up witnesses.
And she was next.
The Escape
Two days later, Vanessa disappeared.
Her lawyer arrived at the detention center.
Her cell was empty.
The guards swore nobody had entered.
No camera malfunction.
No broken lock.
Nothing.
Just one message written on the wall.
I WALKED AWAY.
But Harrison didn't believe it.
He studied the surveillance footage.
At 3:12 a.m., a guard entered the corridor.
At 3:13, the camera went dark.
At 3:18, it returned.
Five minutes.
Enough time.
Harrison called Marcus.
“Find that guard.”
“He disappeared.”
Harrison's eyes narrowed.
“Of course he did.”
Then his phone rang.
It was Vanessa.
Harrison answered.
Her voice was barely audible.
“Mr. Cole?”
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why?”
“They'll kill my sister.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
Silence.
“Vanessa.”
“I know who paid me.”
Harrison froze.
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Evelyn wasn't the person giving the orders.”
“Then who was?”
Vanessa began crying.
“I saw the name.”
“What name?”
“I saw it on the bank transfer.”
“Tell me.”
A long silence.
Then:
“Catherine Ward.”
Harrison's face went pale.
“That woman died twenty-eight years ago.”
“I know.”
Vanessa whispered:
“But someone has been using her account.”
The line went dead.
The Woman Who Was Supposed to Die
Harrison stood motionless.
Marcus looked at him.
“What happened?”
Harrison slowly lowered the phone.
“The money came from an account belonging to Catherine Ward.”
Marcus frowned.
“She died twenty-eight years ago.”
“I know.”
“So the account is fraudulent.”
“Maybe.”
Harrison looked toward the hospital.
Khloe was still inside.
Her son was still fighting.
And Vanessa was now hiding from someone who seemed capable of reaching anyone.
The pieces were coming together.
The fake account.
The fertility clinic.
The mysterious donor.
Richard's silence.
Evelyn's payments.
Vanessa's threats.
And a woman who had supposedly been dead for nearly three decades.
Harrison picked up his coat.
“Where are you going?” Marcus asked.
“To the courthouse.”
“Why?”
“Because someone wants Vanessa dead before she testifies.”
He stopped at the door.
“And if they are willing to kill her…”
His expression hardened.
“…they'll come for Khloe next.”
The Message
At 11:56 p.m., Harrison reached the courthouse.
The same courthouse.
The same thirty marble steps.
The same place where Khloe had nearly died.
He stood at the bottom.
Bloodstains had been cleaned away.
But he could still see them.
Then his phone vibrated.
One message.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HER DIE.
Harrison stared at it.
A second message arrived.
NOW YOU HAVE TWO DAYS.
Then a photograph.
Khloe.
Sleeping in her hospital bed.
Beside her stood a nurse.
But the nurse wasn't supposed to be there.
Harrison zoomed in.
The nurse was holding a syringe.
His blood turned cold.
He called the hospital.
“Lock down the maternity floor.”
The operator hesitated.
“Sir—”
“NOW.”
He ran toward his car.
But before he reached it, another message appeared.
You can protect your sister.
A pause.
Or you can find Vanessa.
Then:
You cannot do both.
Harrison stopped.
For the first time, the enemy had given him a choice.
And Harrison Cole had never been good at choosing between two impossible options.
Because he had just realized something terrifying.
This wasn't a legal battle anymore.
It wasn't about Richard.
It wasn't about Vanessa.
It wasn't even about the Harrington fortune.
Someone had planned Khloe's fall months ago.
Someone had anticipated the pregnancy.
Someone had known about the fertility treatment.
Someone had access to the hospital.
And someone knew exactly how Harrison would react.
He looked back toward the courthouse steps.
Thirty marble steps.
One attempted murder.
One surviving woman.
One unborn—or rather, newly born—child fighting for life.
And somewhere in the city, Vanessa was running for hers.
Harrison's phone rang.
This time, he answered without speaking.
A woman's voice whispered:
“Mr. Cole?”
“Yes.”
“I know where Vanessa is.”
“Who are you?”
The woman breathed shakily.
“I worked at the fertility clinic.”
Harrison's grip tightened around the phone.
“What do you know?”
“The donor.”
“Who was he?”
A long silence.
Then the woman whispered:
“It wasn't an anonymous donor.”
Harrison stopped breathing.
“Who was it?”
The answer came quietly.
“Richard Harrington.”
Harrison's eyes widened.
“That isn't possible.”
“I saw the original records.”
“Why was it hidden?”
“Because Richard wasn't the only donor.”
Harrison's blood ran cold.
“What does that mean?”
“There were two samples.”
“Whose?”
The woman began crying.
“One belonged to Richard.”
“And the other?”
She whispered:
“Your family.”
The call ended.
Harrison stood beneath the courthouse lights.
He looked toward the hospital in the distance.
Then at the thirty marble steps.
The truth was no longer simply threatening to destroy Richard's marriage.
May you like
It was threatening to reveal a secret that had been buried for decades.
And whoever had ordered Khloe's death was willing to kill anyone who got close enough to uncover it.
