Chapter 9: Grant, Consider This Returned

Vivian clutched her stinging cheek, real terror flooding her face. "Nora, what are you doing?"

This time, the fear wasn't an act. The Nora she knew had always folded the second Vivian pushed hard enough. This wasn't that woman anymore.

She's actually lost it.

Nora said nothing, moving exactly according to plan.

Her hand closed around the vase on the side table without hesitation, and she swung it hard toward the sound of Vivian's voice.

Another crack split the air.

Vivian's scream tore through the room she hadn't imagined for a second that a slap would escalate into this.

She never got the chance to dodge. The vase caught her across the forehead, and blood sprayed across the floor.

By the time Grant snapped out of his shock, Nora was already raising the broken half of the vase again, sharp edges gleaming.

Just as the shard came within inches of Vivian's skin, he caught Nora's wrist and struck her across the face in the same motion.

His voice came out as a snarl, fury blazing in his eyes. "Nora! I brought you here to apologize, this is your idea of an apology? Or were you never planning to apologize at all?"

He didn't get a word in response.

Instead, Nora's palm cracked across his cheek.

Grant froze, stunned, staring at the woman in front of him like he'd never seen her before.

Then the other side of his face caught the second slap.

His eyes went murderous. "You… Nora"

She'd put everything she had into both hits, her palms stinging from the impact.

Cool, distant, her eyes flat as still water, she said quietly, "Grant. Consider that returned."

Yesterday's slap and today's she'd simply settled the account. Fair was fair.

Something shifted in Grant's expression. He couldn't tell if he was imagining it, but the woman standing in front of him felt like a stranger.

He'd always assumed he had her figured out completely. Now, suddenly, he couldn't read her at all.

The feeling unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. He opened his mouth to demand answers until Vivian's weak voice cut through the moment.

"Grant. It hurts."

His attention snapped back to her immediately, blood streaming down her forehead. He scooped her up without another word and rushed toward the door.

As he passed Nora, he stopped just long enough to look at her, his voice ice-cold.

"Call the police."

Nora's hands curled into fists at those words, and blood welled up where the broken glass had already sliced her palms.

Red bloomed across the hem of her white dress.

Exactly what I expected him to say.

I built this whole plan around knowing exactly what he'd do.

A beat later, one of the staff understood and dialed for the police.

Nora was arrested for assault. The evidence was airtight.

---

Interrogation room.

"Name."

"Nora Ashford."

"Gender."

"Female."

"Age."

"Twenty-five."

The officer running the case glanced through her file, murmured something to his colleague, then looked up again. "You never finished your degree, dropped out to get married in a hurry?"

Somewhere behind her eyes, darkness pressed in, endless and unbroken.

The year of the accident, she'd been a junior in college, a future laid out in front of her, full of color, before it all went black in an instant.

She still remembered it clearly. Less than a month after the accident, the painting she'd prepared for a major competition vanished from her portfolio. Vivian took first place in that same competition weeks later.

She learned eventually that Vivian had submitted the piece under her own name. When Nora tried to demand an explanation, Mrs. Ashford had torn into her instead.

"You stole eighteen years of Vivian's life. What's one painting compared to that? Besides, you're blind now. Painting isn't exactly in your future anymore. You should be honored that your work got submitted at all. Don't be so ungrateful."

The next day, Mrs. Ashford had gone in person to withdraw her from the Belmoor Academy of Fine Arts.

One year. I was one single year away from graduating.

Nora drew a slow breath, biting down on her lip until her whole body trembled.

The officer's tone sharpened. "Ms. Ashford, answer the question."

She lifted her chin, something unshakeable settling behind her eyes. "I have the right to remain silent until my lawyer arrives."

---

Two hours later, Nora walked out of the station without charges.

She stood at the entrance, listening to the low, easy exchange between her lawyer and the officer in charge a few pleasantries traded before he took his leave.

They stepped outside together, and the second the doors closed behind them, his temper snapped.

"Nora. Stop right there."

She stopped. He closed the distance fast, anger radiating off him. "If you hadn't gotten arrested today, how long were you planning to keep this from me?"

Her face had gone pale, exhaustion written into every line of it. "I wasn't trying to hide it from you."

"Weren't trying to hide it?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "Nora, I mean it, all of this, and you told Bea before you told me? I thought I meant more to you than that."

The three of them Nora, Bea, and Miles Cortland had grown up together. Bea had gone on to become a leading name in medical research overseas. Miles had built a career as one of the most sought-after lawyers in the country, his time billed by the second.

And somehow I'm the only one of us who never went anywhere.

Nora managed a faint, crooked smile. "How could I ever let you go, Miles? You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

He studied her for a long moment, then pulled her into a hug, his voice gentling. "Fine. You're forgiven. And stop forcing a smile when you're falling apart inside it doesn't suit you."

The warmth in his voice hit something in her she hadn't felt in longer than she could remember.

"If you need to cry," he added quietly, "just cry. I won't say a word about it."

The tears she'd been holding back for what felt like forever broke loose all at once.

For the first time since she'd learned the truth, Nora let herself sob without holding anything back, every bit of grief she'd been swallowing finally finding a way out.

I've cried enough. I'm so tired of crying.

---

Once she was settled in the car, Miles handed her a tissue. Something hard flickered in his eyes as he asked, "So. What's the plan for the two of them?"

Her silence didn't mean she had nothing to say. It meant she'd already said it all to herself, a hundred times over.

Once she'd steadied her breathing, she laid it out. "The accident wasn't an accident. Vivian arranged it. I've already paid for people to track down witnesses. And Grant conspired with doctors at the hospital to take my corneas without my knowledge. If that's true, there'll be evidence somewhere. I want both of them to answer for it. In court, not just in this house."

Underneath the anger was something rawer grief she couldn't quite talk herself out of feeling.

They’d been each other's whole world once. Miles couldn't bring himself to push her further tonight. After a pause, he asked, gentler this time, "And the baby? Are you keeping it?"