Chapter 2 - The Camera
Sterling stared at the twitching hand, his pleasant smile dissolving into a terrifying mask of pure suspicion.
Willa forced her expression into a mask of sudden, panicked terror.
"He's having a seizure!" she cried out, deliberately leaning hard on Everett's hand to force his fingers flat against the mattress.
"Call Dr. Whitfield right now!" she yelled, injecting genuine panic into her shaking voice.
Sterling hesitated, his dark eyes narrowing as he analyzed her frantic, desperate movements.
"Seizures can cause massive muscle contractions," Willa babbled, rapidly checking Everett's pupils to sell the desperate lie.
"If he strokes out tonight, your precious transition of power gets held up in probate court for years."
That was the magic phrase that finally broke his dangerous concentration.
Sterling’s face hardened, and he pulled a cell phone from his tailored suit jacket.
He stepped out into the hallway, barking angry orders at his private security detail.
Willa exhaled sharply and squeezed Everett's hand once, a silent plea for him to stay perfectly still.
His fingers immediately relaxed, confirming he understood the deadly game they were being forced to play.
Dr. Whitfield arrived exactly ten minutes later, his silver-framed glasses glinting under the harsh overhead lights.
He examined Everett with clinical detachment, checking the specific IV bags Willa had carefully diluted hours earlier.
"Severe muscle spasms are common in comatose patients," Whitfield stated smoothly, adjusting his crisp white cuffs.
"However, to prevent further distress to the nervous system, I will increase his sedative dosage."
Willa’s blood ran completely cold.
If Whitfield increased the dose now, Everett might never find his way out of the dark ocean again.
"Is that safe for his heart?" she asked, keeping her tone submissive, acting like a naive girl.
Whitfield turned to her, his eyes dead, unblinking, and devoid of any human warmth.
"You are here to look pretty and keep your mother out of a state ward, Mrs. Kane."
"Leave the medicine to me, or I will make a single phone call that ends your mother's care tonight."
Willa bit her tongue until it bled, stepping back as Whitfield injected a new, milky fluid into the IV line.
After the arrogant doctor and Sterling finally left, Willa waited thirty agonizing minutes before moving an inch.
She reached for the IV port, desperate to flush the heavy sedative from his veins before it took hold.
As she reached up, the pale moonlight caught a strange, unnatural reflection in the corner of the room.
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Hidden deep behind the brass vent grate, a tiny, red light blinked steadily in the darkness.
Someone was watching her every move.
