Chapter 3 - The Hospital Ward
The emergency room at Massachusetts General Hospital was a chaotic blur of harsh fluorescent lights and frantic movement.
I sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, clutching my Prada handbag to my chest.
Richard had suffered a massive, sudden cardiac event while arguing with Brooke in the restaurant lobby.
He was currently in surgery, having two stents placed in his severely blocked arteries.
Brooke Ellis was sitting three chairs away from me, weeping hysterically into a crumpled tissue.
She was playing the role of the devastated, loving partner perfectly.
I felt absolutely nothing.
No panic. No sorrow. No fear.
Just a profound, icy clarity.
A tall, exhausted-looking surgeon pushed through the swinging double doors and approached us.
"Mrs. Halston?" the doctor asked, looking back and forth between Brooke and me.
I stood up, smoothing the skirt of my designer dress.
"I am his wife," I stated firmly, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet waiting area.
Brooke shot out of her chair, her tear-streaked face twisted in anger.
"I'm his fiancée!" she declared loudly, completely ignoring the fact that he was still legally married to me.
"I need to see him immediately!"
The surgeon looked incredibly uncomfortable, glancing at the clipboard in his hand.
"Mr. Halston is stable, but he is heavily sedated," the doctor explained quickly.
"He will be in the cardiac ICU for at least three days."
"However, he was awake briefly in the ambulance, and he was very insistent about his medical proxy."
I frowned, a cold knot forming in my stomach.
"I am his medical proxy," I said confidently.
"We drafted the documents a decade ago."
The surgeon shook his head, looking directly at Brooke.
"Mr. Halston filed new advanced directives with this hospital exactly six months ago."
"He named Ms. Ellis as his primary medical proxy and granted her full power of attorney in the event of incapacitation."
Brooke gasped in dramatic relief, placing a hand over her heart.
I stood completely frozen, the air rushing out of my lungs.
Richard hadn't just hidden money from me.
He had secretly stripped me of all my legal rights regarding his health and our shared estate.
"That is impossible," I said, my voice dangerously low.
"He cannot grant power of attorney without my signature on the updated trust documents."
Brooke sneered at me, completely dropping the devastated act.
"He didn't need your signature, Margaret," she hissed venomously.
"He forged it."
She stepped closer to me, her expensive perfume clashing heavily with the smell of hospital antiseptic.
"Richard transferred the Weston house into a corporate holding company last week."
"As his power of attorney, I am officially executing the eviction notice tomorrow morning."
"You have twenty-four hours to pack your bags and get out of my house."
She turned on her heel and strutted through the double doors to see my husband.
I stood alone in the waiting room, completely stripped of my home, my marriage, and my financial security in less than an hour.
My phone suddenly vibrated in my purse.
May you like
I pulled it out and saw a text message from an unknown international number.
I heard about Richard's heart attack. Do not let Brooke access the safety deposit box at First Boston Bank. If she opens it, you will go to federal prison.
