Chapter 7 - Awakening
Three days later.
The ICU room at St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital was quiet, save for the steady, rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor tracking every vital sign.
The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, spilling a warm, golden shaft of light across the white hospital sheets.
I sat in the vinyl armchair beside the bed, my hand resting gently over Violet’s small, pale fingers. The bruises on her face were beginning to fade into a dull, yellowish purple, and the heavy bandages around her head had been replaced by a neat white gauze wrap.
The door clicked open softly.
Harper stepped in. She looked exhausted, her face free of makeup, wearing simple clothes. She didn't look like the glamorous suburban wife anymore; she looked like a woman who had survived a hurricane and was standing in the wreckage, trying to figure out how to rebuild.
She stopped at the foot of the bed, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at our daughter.
“The federal agents came by my house this morning,” Harper whispered, her voice cracking. “They took everything. The bank accounts, the deeds, the cars. Harrison and his entire network... they’re all in federal custody. Detective Grant was arrested at his precinct an hour ago.”
I didn't look up at her. My eyes stayed fixed on Violet’s face.
“Good,” I said simply.
Harper swallowed hard, taking a tentative step forward. “Mason... I know what I deserve. I know what you must think of me. When you're ready to file the divorce papers... I won't fight you. I’ll sign whatever you put in front of me.”
I finally looked up, meeting her gaze. There was no anger left in my chest—only a profound, hollow exhaustion.
“Let’s focus on Violet right now,” I said quietly. “Everything else can wait.”
Before Harper could answer, a small, weak sound came from the bed.
Mmh...
My head snapped around.
Violet’s eyelids fluttered, trembling against her cheeks as she fought through the lingering haze of the heavy sedatives. Her fingers twitched inside mine, curling weakly around my thumb just like she used to do when she was a little girl.
“Dad?” she whispered, her voice raspy and dry.
I leaned over her, my heart hammering against my ribs like it had when I first found her on the hallway floor.
“I’m right here, baby,” I choked out, tears finally spilling over my lashes. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
Violet slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the bright morning light. She looked around the room, then up at my face, a small, faint smile touching her bruised lips.
May you like
“You came home,” she whispered.
“I came home,” I said, kissing her knuckles gently. “And I’m never leaving again.”
