Chapter 3 - The Hospital Room
The blinding white lights of the emergency room ceiling passed by in a dizzying blur.
The pain medication they pumped into my IV made my mind feel like it was wrapped in heavy cotton.
When I finally woke up properly, the room was dim, quiet, and smelling strongly of antiseptic.
My right leg was encased in a heavy plaster cast, suspended slightly to reduce the intense swelling.
My father sat in a rigid plastic chair beside my bed, his eyes red and exhausted, but violently awake.
Emma was curled up asleep on a small cot in the corner, covered in a warm hospital blanket.
"He shattered your tibia and fractured your femur," my father said quietly, his voice rough with unshed tears.
"The surgeon had to use plates and screws to put my little girl back together."
I reached out, my fingers weakly grasping his strong, calloused hand.
"He took the money, Dad," I choked out, the memory of the bank alert flooding back to my hazy brain.
"He transferred the entire inheritance you left for me just before he attacked me."
My father didn't look surprised; instead, a terrifying, cold smile touched the corners of his mouth.
"I know," my father replied smoothly, leaning closer to my hospital bed.
"Did you honestly think I would give you a multi-million dollar trust fund without setting up security tripwires?"
I stared at him in shock, the pain medication suddenly feeling much less potent.
"The moment David initiated a transfer of that size, my private bankers flagged it and placed it in a holding escrow," he explained.
"David thinks he emptied your account into his secret offshore fund."
"In reality, he transferred it straight into a honeypot account heavily monitored by the FBI."
Tears of immense relief finally spilled over my eyelashes and soaked into my hospital pillow.
"He has been draining our joint accounts for months, Dad," I confessed, ashamed that I had let it go on for so long.
"He bought his sister a car, he paid off his mother's debts, and he isolated me from everyone."
My father squeezed my hand tightly, his eyes burning with a fierce, protective fire.
May you like
"You survived, Sarah, and that is the only thing that matters right now," he whispered fiercely.
"Rest your body tonight, because tomorrow, we are going to war."
