I lay motionless in my hospital bed, pretending the morphine had fully pulled me under, when my husband bent close and whispered, “Once she’s gone, it all belongs to us.”
His mistress let out a soft, eager laugh.
“I can’t wait.”
My stomach twisted.
That’s when the nurse adjusting my IV suddenly froze. Her eyes snapped toward them.
“She can hear everything you’re saying,” she said sharply.
My husband’s face drained of color.
Mine stayed perfectly still.
Because in that moment, I understood exactly what was happening—and what I needed to do next.
Playing Dead
I kept my eyelids heavy and my breathing slow, shallow enough to look sedated. The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and something colder—fear.
Ethan Carter stood on my right, dressed impeccably as always, wearing the expression of a man performing grief instead of feeling it.
On my left was Sloane. The “coworker” he’d always dismissed as harmless. Perfect hair. Glossed lips. Far too relaxed for a hospital room.
Ethan leaned down, his lips nearly brushing my ear.
“When she’s gone,” he murmured, “everything is ours.”
Sloane giggled as if they were planning a vacation.
I didn’t move.
I let them believe I was already halfway out of this world.
The Nurse Who Saw Everything
The nurse—Nora Patel, according to her badge—paused mid-adjustment.
Her eyes shifted from them to me.
“Patients can still be aware under sedation,” she said coolly. “You should be very careful about what you say.”
Ethan straightened too quickly.
“What?”
“It happens more often than people think,” she replied calmly.
Sloane’s smile faltered—just for a second—before snapping back into place.
“He’s just stressed,” she said sweetly, placing a hand on Ethan’s arm.
When Nora stepped out, Ethan’s voice dropped.
“If you’re pretending, Ava, stop. You’re confused. You don’t understand what’s going on.”
Sloane leaned in, her perfume suffocating.
“Rest,” she whispered. “You’ll feel better soon.”
Ethan pulled out his phone.
“It’s almost done,” he muttered. “The paperwork’s ready. Once she’s declared… we move.”
Declared.
Not “if.”
When.
This wasn’t grief. It was a timeline.
The Moment He Tried
My heart pounded so violently I feared the monitor would betray me.
Ethan leaned close again.
“If you love me, Ava,” he said softly, “you’ll let go.”
His hand slid beneath the blanket and gripped my wrist—not gently. Testing.
Then I felt it.
A shift in the IV line.
Pressure.
A faint sting as something new entered my vein.
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
Darkness rushed toward me—not sleep, but something heavier. Forced.
I fought it. Kicking against the fog swallowing my thoughts.
Then—
Footsteps. Fast.
Nora’s voice cut through the haze.
“What did you give her?”
Ethan stepped back instantly, his voice smooth.
“She was in pain. I was helping.”
“You don’t touch a patient’s IV,” Nora snapped. “Step away. Now.”
She leaned close to me.
“Ava, if you can hear me, squeeze my fingers.”
With everything I had left, I did.
Barely. But enough.
“Security. Room 412. Now.”
The Truth Surfaces
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