Colin had drained her savings, rushed a divorce, married his mistress, and left himself positioned to collect half a million dollars after Lily died.
He had turned her illness into a financial plan.
I took out my phone and called Nathan Price.
Nathan had once been a trauma surgeon in Chicago. After burning out, he went to law school and became one of the most feared litigation attorneys I knew.
He answered on the second ring.
“Evelyn? It’s the middle of the night. What happened?”
“Everything,” I said.
I told him all of it.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, his voice changed. It became sharp, focused, dangerous.
“Does Lily have a current will?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out. If Colin controls it, we change it tonight. I’m sending you documents now. You need two witnesses and a notary. We’ll also file an immediate notice with the insurance company contesting any beneficiary claim based on coercion and financial abuse.”
“What are we really doing?” I asked.
“We’re creating a legal wall before he reaches the money,” Nathan said. “And then we’re going to bury him under the truth.”
Just then, an alarm sounded down the hall.
Room 112.
I ran.
Nora was already beside Lily’s bed, checking the monitor and adjusting the sensor on her chest.
“False alarm,” she said breathlessly. “A lead slipped. But her vitals are weakening.”
I sat beside Lily and took her hand.
Her eyes opened.
“Mom,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You do not apologize to me.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I should have called.”
“Yes,” I said softly. “But he made sure you believed you shouldn’t.”
She closed her eyes.
“He said I was making everything harder. He said involving you would create drama. He told me if I loved him, I wouldn’t drag everyone into my sickness.”
There it was.
