That night, I made my move. I waited until Vanessa left after her evening visit. I waited until the nurse shift changed and Stephanie went on break. Then I got out of bed, pulled on the clothes Vanessa had brought me earlier in the week, and walked out of my hospital room.
Nobody stopped me. Why would they? I was a recovering coma patient, not a prisoner.
I took the elevator down to the lobby. I walked past the gift shop, past the coffee cart, past the security desk where a guard was reading a newspaper and didn’t even look up. And I walked out the front doors into the cool evening air of early April.
I didn’t have a car. I didn’t have a wallet. But I had my broken phone, and I had Carla’s number memorized. I walked three blocks to a gas station and used the pay phone, the kind nobody uses anymore except in emergencies.
“Carla, it’s Marina. I need another favor.”
Two hours later, I was sitting in Carla’s truck on a dirt road overlooking the Riverside property. She brought me clothes, a burner phone, and a thermos of coffee that tasted like battery acid and hope.
“You sure about this?” Carla asked.
“If your sister finds out you’re gone…”
“If she finds out I’m gone, she’ll panic. And when people panic, they make mistakes. I’m counting on it.”
Carla shook her head, but she was smiling a little.
“You’re either really brave or really stupid.”
“Probably both.”
“Probably.”
We sat there for a while, watching the lights from the farmhouse in the distance. I knew every inch of that property. I knew where the oak tree stood that my grandfather had planted. I knew where the creek ran in the summer. I knew where my grandmother’s ashes were scattered in the garden behind the house.
And I knew Vanessa was going to try to pave over all of it for three million dollars.
Carla broke the silence.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan is I go to the house. I find proof that Vanessa’s been working with this Marcus guy to develop the property, and I record everything. Then I go to the police with the brake line evidence and the recordings and everything else, and I put her away.”
“And if she’s at the house?”
“Then I improvise.”
I got out of the truck. Carla grabbed my arm.
“Marina, seriously, if this goes bad, call me. I’ll come get you.”
“I know. Thank you, Carla, for everything.”
She nodded.
“Go, and don’t get yourself killed. I’ve already got your car on my lot. I don’t need your body, too.”
I walked down the hill toward the farmhouse. The lights were on in the kitchen. I could see a car in the driveway, not Vanessa’s car, a black sedan, expensive, the kind a developer would drive.
Marcus was here.
Perfect.
