Chapter 6: Falling Shadows

There she is. Charlotte.

Her father hovers over the bed, face pale, hands shaking as he murmurs, “Lottie… don’t leave me… please…” His voice cracks under the weight of grief, each word a fragile plea. I stay in the shadows down the hall, observing.

Outside the room, her brothers have arrived, four imposing figures in tailored suits. Carter, the eldest, straightens his tie, exuding the calm authority of someone used to taking charge. Cole and Cyrus, the twins, lean casually against the doorway, mirroring each other’s expressions with a quiet confidence. Callum, the youngest, hesitates at the threshold, uncertainty written across his face.

“Well, well, well… look who finally decided to show up,” Carter mutters, voice carrying just enough for me to hear. “Thought you’d sneak past without greeting your favorite frenemy.”

Cole smirks, nudging Cyrus slightly. “Quite the entrance, huh?”

Cyrus’s lips curl in a faint smile. “Timing is… interesting, that’s for sure.”

Callum shakes his head, lips pressed together. “I don’t think anyone’s in the mood for games.”

I keep my expression neutral, silent. Let them underestimate me.

The brothers continue their quiet exchange, unaware that Charlotte’s father, Charles, is completely absorbed, grief-stricken, inside the room. I watch him pace, back and forth, muttering her name, tears streaking his face. Nurses flit about, adjusting her IV and monitors, keeping a careful eye on the fragile life still clinging to the bed.

Then… it happens.

A sudden, harsh beep cuts through the air, piercing the hallway like a death knell.

“Wait—what?” Callum mutters, eyes snapping toward the room.

The flatline tone rises, steady and merciless.

Silence falls. The brothers freeze. My pulse quickens. Even from my hidden position, I can feel the tension spike, the shock radiating from them like electricity.

Inside, Charles collapses into the chair beside her bed, hands clutching the sheets. His sobs shake the room. “No… Lottie… my little girl… don’t leave me…”

I linger in the shadows, observing the cascade of grief and disbelief. Carter moves quickly to console their father, his large hands gripping Charles’s shoulders. Cole and Cyrus cling to Charlotte’s lifeless hands, twin faces pale with shock. Callum stands frozen at the foot of the bed, disbelief etched deep into every line of his body. Each brother reacts differently, but all are united in devastation.

Dr. Law and Vance step outside, brushing past me with curt nods before heading down the hallway. Likely to discuss next steps. I glance back into the room, despair coiling in my chest. Part of me wants to feel relief — the rivals are vulnerable now — but another part can’t help worrying about her.

I remember when I found her two weeks ago, slumped over the steering wheel, blood trickling down her face. I had carried her to safety myself, her whispered plea: “It’s not safe for me anywhere…” echoing in my mind. Even with my private health team stabilizing her, the decision to take her to the hospital had been agonizing.

“Az! You won’t believe what I’ve found during my investigation,” Viv’s voice crackles through the phone.

“Hold on, Viv,” I snap, irritation creeping in. The volume is too loud, not on speaker, and I can’t adjust it. Privacy calls. I slip away from the hallway and find cover at the top of the stairs.

“Okay, proceed,” I demand, bracing myself.

“I bypassed the hospital’s cybersecurity and dug into Charlotte’s files,” Viv rattles. “Something’s… suspicious.”

I place a free hand on my head, rubbing my temples. “Out with it.”

“Her medical records… they’ve been tampered with. She had prolonged poisoning exposure and was diagnosed with gastric cancer without proper tests,” Viv explains.

I frown. “Elaborate.”

“Though exposure could have caused illness, nothing confirms cancer. Painkillers and end-of-life meds were administered before the diagnosis—someone staged it. Poison, misdirection, the works,” Viv says, pride tinged with urgency.

“That’s… huge. Send everything to me immediately. I need to know who, why, and how she was murdered,” I command.

A creak behind me—the door opening. Before I can move, a hard shove crashes into my shoulder.

I tumble down the stairs, the world spinning, darkness swallowing me whole.