Chapter 9 - Twelve Minutes Awake
The answer to Veronica's question came two years late.
Sam's voice played through the van speakers.
“Until the estate documents are changed.”
Veronica laughed.
“And if he doesn't propose?”
“Make him.”
The footage ended.
For several seconds, I heard nothing except the rain hitting the van roof.
Grace closed the laptop.
Not quickly.
Gently.
As though the device itself had become something fragile.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I looked out the window.
There are humiliations a man can survive only by pretending they are not humiliating.
I had spent forty-six years believing I could read people.
I built businesses by recognizing greed before contracts were signed.
I negotiated with men who smiled while planning betrayal.
I knew when politicians lied, when executives panicked, when associates hid resentment.
And yet I had invited Veronica Hale into my home.
My family.
My bed.
My future.
She hadn't fooled me for a week.
She had fooled me for two years.
“Don't,” I said.
“Don't what?”
“Feel sorry for me.”
“I wasn't.”
I looked at her.
Grace shrugged.
“I was feeling sorry that someone did that to you. That's different.”
I almost smiled.
“Very diplomatic.”
“Three years of college.”
We returned to the hospital at 4:18 p.m.
I had been gone twelve minutes longer than Michael considered survivable without attracting suspicion.
Hence what he later called “the worst twelve minutes of my medical career.”
By five, I was back beneath the white blanket.
By six, Veronica was on her way to the hospital.
She still didn't know we had the Keller archive.
She also didn't know we had seen the video proving her relationship with Sam began before ours.
At 6:42, she entered.
No blue dress.
No diamonds.
Gray sweater.
Dark pants.
She looked frightened.
Real frightened.
Grace stood in the adjoining room listening through the partially closed door.
Veronica approached my bed.
I opened my eyes.
She stopped.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “So it's true.”
“What?”
“You really were awake.”
“Most of the time.”
Her eyes filled.
“Dominic…”
“Don't.”
She sat.
“I can explain.”
“I've heard enough explanations this week.”
“Sam found me before you did.”
“I know.”
Her face changed.
“How?”
“Does it matter?”
She looked toward the door.
“You went to the warehouse.”
I said nothing.
“Keller called Sam. Sam called me.”
“And you came here.”
“I have nowhere else.”
“You have four hundred million reasons to leave.”
Her face crumpled.
“That isn't fair.”
I laughed.
The pain in my ribs punished me for it.
“Fair?”
“I didn't know they'd kill Nico.”
“You knew they wanted me dead.”
“Not at first.”
“But eventually.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
She looked down.
“After we got engaged.”
A year.
She had known for almost a year.
“And you stayed.”
“I was afraid.”
“You stayed.”
“Yes.”
“You whispered for me to die.”
Veronica began crying.
“I thought if you didn't die, they would kill me.”
“So you chose me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
My voice stayed calm.
That was worse than shouting.
“You chose me because you thought my death purchased your life and made you rich.”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Finally.
Truth.
I leaned back.
“Did any of it matter?”
“What?”
“Us.”
Her tears stopped.
I almost wished she had lied.
Instead she answered, “At first, no.”
Grace remained absolutely still behind the door.
Veronica continued.
“I was supposed to meet you. Become useful. Make you trust me.”
“And afterward?”
“I didn't expect you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You weren't what they said.”
“Who is they?”
“Sam. Keller.”
“What did they say?”
“That you were cold. Cruel. That women were disposable to you.”
“And you believed them?”
“I wanted to.”
“Because it made lying easier.”
“Yes.”
She wiped her face.
“Then I started loving you.”
I stared at her.
It was possible.
That was the problem.
Human beings aren't cleanly divided into love and betrayal.
Sometimes the same person can feel both.
That doesn't make the betrayal smaller.
“When did you love me?” I asked.
“When you sat with my father in the hospital.”
I remembered.
Her father died eight months earlier.
I had spent two nights beside him because Veronica was terrified of being alone.
She had slept against my shoulder.
Was that real?
Maybe.
It no longer mattered.
“You still chose them.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because by then they had evidence against me.”
“What evidence?”
She looked ashamed.
“Money.”
“How much?”
“Sam paid me before I met you.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
Grace inhaled softly from the other room.
Veronica heard.
“She really is here.”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust her?”
“Yes.”
The answer came before I thought.
Veronica looked hurt.
That almost made me angry.
“You knew her six months.”
“I apparently knew you less after two years.”
She had no response.
I asked about Dr. Shaw.
“Sam owns him,” Veronica said. “At ten tonight he'll certify you. At eleven they activate the directive.”
“And then?”
“Your oxygen is reduced. Medication is changed. Everyone calls it a peaceful decline.”
Michael had suspected exactly that.
“And Friday?”
“The trust moves at midnight.”
“Keller takes Bellhaven.”
“Yes.”
“Sam?”
“Gets forty million plus control of several entities.”
“Anthony?”
“Nothing.”
“And you?”
Veronica laughed bitterly.
“I don't think I was ever getting anything.”
At least she finally understood.
“Will Keller come tonight?”
“No.”
“Sam?”
“Yes.”
“Anthony?”
“They think he's hiding after what happened.”
“Good.”
I studied her.
“Can you act?”
Veronica's expression almost became offended.
Then she realized the irony.
“Yes.”
“You've had practice.”
“What do you want?”
“Tonight you behave exactly as Sam expects.”
Her face paled.
“You want me to help trap him.”
“I want you to decide which side you're on before someone chooses for you.”
She stood slowly.
“What happens to me afterward?”
“I don't know.”
“Will you protect me?”
“From Keller, yes.”
“From the police?”
“No.”
“From yourself?”
I looked at her.
“I haven't decided.”
Veronica nodded.
Fair answer.
She turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“Grace is in danger.”
Grace stepped fully into view.
“Tell me something I don't know.”
Veronica looked at her.
“Not because of the recording.”
“What, then?”
“Keller knows who her mother is.”
“We know.”
“He knows something else.”
Grace's face tightened.
“What?”
Veronica hesitated.
“Your father.”
Grace stared.
“My father is dead.”
“No.”
The word seemed to change the temperature in the room.
Veronica swallowed.
“According to Keller's files, Thomas Miller didn't die in 2008.”
Grace stopped breathing.
“He entered federal witness protection.”
Silence.
Then:
May you like
“And Keller knows where he is.”
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