Chapter 5

Zara's POV

But morning came and the door stayed locked.

I pounded on it. "Marcus! Mrs. Adams! Anyone! Please let me out!"

No response. I could hear sounds in the house, people moving around, breakfast dishes clattering, normal morning sounds, but nobody came to the garage.

My mouth was dry and my stomach hurt from the fall last night. The chemical smell was giving me a headache that got worse every hour.

By afternoon I was dizzy and the smell of the chemicals was everywhere, in my nose and throat and lungs. I tried to breathe through my shirt but it didn't help.

The artificial liver system beeped once, quietly.

I sat very still and tried to stay calm. Stress made it worse, fear made it worse, I needed to relax.

But the beeping got faster.

The second day I couldn't stand up anymore without the room spinning. Every breath tasted like chemicals and I threw up twice in the corner.

The device on my waist started beeping constantly, not the emergency alarm yet but just the warning that things were going wrong inside my body.

Please. Someone. I need help.

I must have passed out because suddenly it was dark. My mouth tasted like blood and the device was screaming now.

CRITICAL FAILURE. SEEK IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION.

I tried to call out but only a whisper came. Everything hurt and everything was spinning.

I'm going to die in this garage, locked in here like garbage. This is how it ends.

The door opened.

Bright light flooded in and Mrs. Adams's voice was shocked and horrified. "Oh my God! Mrs. Wilson! Mrs. Wilson, can you hear me?"

I tried to answer but blood came out instead.

"Call an ambulance! Now! She's not breathing right! Oh God, there's blood everywhere!"

It's okay. Help is here. I'm going to be okay.

Everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital again with Dr. Morrison's face swimming into focus above me.

"You were in that garage for forty-eight hours," he said quietly. "The chemical exposure combined with your already compromised liver function nearly killed you. If the housekeeper hadn't found you when she did, you'd be dead."

"I need to go home."

"Absolutely not. You're staying here for at least three days while we stabilize your system."

"Please. I need to see my daughter. I need to try to explain to her—"

"Your daughter?" Dr. Morrison looked at me with something like pity. "Mrs. Wilson, your family didn't even call to check if you survived. Your husband hasn't answered any of our calls. We had to get your insurance information from your medical records."

They didn't even check if I was alive.

In the end, I went along with what Dr. Morrison suggested, staying three more days before getting out of there.

Three days later. I went home even though I wasn't ready, even though everything still hurt.

I needed to see Iris. I needed to try one more time.

I stood outside Iris's bedroom door and listened to her laughing at something inside. I knocked gently.

"Come in!"

I pushed the door open. Iris was on her bed doing leg exercises and Jade sat next to her helping her count.

"Ten more, sweetie. You're doing so great!"

Iris saw me and her whole face changed. Fear and disgust replaced her smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Baby, I just wanted to see you. I wanted to help with your therapy. I learned some massage techniques that might help your legs—"

"Don't touch me!" She scrambled backward on the bed. "Jade! Jade, make her leave!"

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm right here." Jade put her arm around Iris protectively and looked at me with fake sympathy. "Zara, maybe you should give her some space. She's still recovering from the trauma of the accident. Having you here might upset her."

"I'm her mother." My voice broke. "I just want to help her get better."

"You're the reason I'm like this!" Iris shouted. "You made me this way! I hate you!"

I pulled something out of my bag, a small notebook covered in drawings I'd made. "Baby, I made this for you. It's a recovery journal. I've been keeping track of your progress every single day. Look, here's when you first could move your toes again. And here's when you took your first steps with the walker. I'm so proud of you."

I held it out to her.

Iris looked at it, then grabbed it from my hands and ripped the pages out one by one.

"I don't want your stupid journal! Jade is the one who helps me! Jade is the real heiress! You're just a fake! You're a fake and you hurt people!"

She threw the torn pages at my face and they scattered around my feet like broken promises.

"You're not even a real Sterling! You're nobody! I wish Jade was my mom instead of you!"

I dropped to my knees and started picking up the pieces, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold them. Tears dripped onto the paper and made the ink run.

"Iris, please. I love you. I would never hurt you. I'm your mother."

"No you're not! Get out! Get out of my room! I never want to see you again!"

Jade helped her lie back down and stroked her hair. "Shh, baby. It's okay. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

I gathered up the torn pages and stood, my legs feeling like they might collapse under me.

"Iris... I'm so sorry. For everything. I just want you to know that Mommy loves you. No matter what anyone says. No matter what you believe. I love you."

"Get out!" She turned her face away from me. "You're not my mommy anymore. I don't have a mommy."

I walked out of the room with the destroyed journal clutched in my hands. In the hallway, I slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

My daughter didn't want me anymore. My husband thought I was a criminal. My family believed I was crazy.

And maybe they're right. Maybe I am crazy for still trying.

But somewhere out there was a dash cam with the truth on it and I was going to find it, even if it killed me.

Because living like this was already death.