115 A Grieving Mother’s Wrath
Hazel’s POV
“I’ll make sure you regret it.”
The words still burned on my tongue as I stared at Alistair’s stunned expression. I’d finally found the courage to speak my truth, regardless of the circumstances. The hospital corridor felt suffocating-antiseptic scents mingling with grief and tension. “You don’t mean that,” Alistair said, his voice hardening. “You’re upset. We both are.” I crossed my arms. “No, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
“After everything we’ve been through-”
“Everything we’ve been through?” I cut him off. “You mean everything you put me through.”
Alistair’s jaw tightened. “I’m not signing those divorce papers, Hazel.”
“Then prepare for a fight.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is this about Sinclair? I’ve seen the photos of you two. Couldn’t wait to jump into another man’s bed, could you?”
The accusation landed like a slap. I stepped forward, my voice deadly calm.
“How dare you question my integrity. In six years with you, I never once betrayed our relationship. I was loyal to a fault-even when you weren’t worth it.”
“You’re parading around town with another man while still married to me!”
“And you married my stepsister while engaged to me,” I countered. “The difference is, Sebastian respects me. Something you clearly never did.”
Alistair scoffed. “Respects you? Is that what we’re calling it? The Sinclairs don’t respect anyone-they use people,”
“You’d know all about using people, wouldn’t you?”
L
His face flushed with anger. “What exactly has he promised you, Hazel? Money?
Power? Protection from me?”
“He hasn’t promised me anything except basic human decency-something you
wouldn’t understand.”
Alistair stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You think you know him? The Sinclairs are dangerous. They’ve ruined people for less than what
you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing is moving on with my life.”
“Our marriage isn’t over,” he insisted.
“It was over the moment you put my wedding dress on another woman.”
His eyes flashed with something dark. “I won’t let you go, Hazel. Not to him. Not to
anyone.”
Before I could respond, the hospital door burst open. Tanya Turner emerged, her face contorted with grief and rage. Her eyes, red-rimmed and wild, locked onto me like a predator.
“YOU!” she screamed, lunging toward me. “YOU MURDERER!”
I barely had time to step back before she was on me, her hands clawing at my face.
“You killed my daughter!” Tanya shrieked, her voice echoing through the corridor. “You have the heart of a snake! You watched her die and did nothing!”
Nurses rushed forward as Tanya’s nails raked across my cheek. I felt a sharp sting as
skin broke.
“Mrs. Turner, please!” A nurse grabbed her arm. “This is a hospital!”
“She let my baby die!” Tanya continued screaming, fighting against the staff restraining her. “My Ivy is gone because of her!”
Alistair moved quickly to Tanya’s side, putting his arm around her shoulders. The gesture wasn’t lost on me-once again, he’d chosen someone else over me.
“Tanya, please,” he soothed. “This isn’t helping.”
“Don’t defend her!” Tanya spat, tears streaming down her face. “She’s always been jealous of Ivy! She wouldn’t even donate blood when we begged her!”
A small crowd had gathered-nurses, doctors, patients in robes. All watching the
spectacle unfold. I touched my cheek, my fingers coming away with traces of blood from Tanya’s attack.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” I said quietly, my voice somehow steady despite the chaos around
“LIAR!” Tanya screamed. “You could have saved her! You have the same rare blood type! You just wanted her to die!”
One of the doctors stepped forward. “Mrs. Turner, please come back inside. You need
to rest.”
“I don’t need rest! I need justice for my daughter!” Tanya’s makeup ran in black streaks down her face. “That woman-” she pointed at me, “—she let my baby die out of spite!”
The accusation hung in the air, poisonous and damning. The onlookers’ eyes shifted to me, judgment already forming in their expressions.
Behind Tanya, the hospital room door opened wider. Two orderlies wheeled out a gurney. On it lay a form covered completely with a white sheet. Ivy’s body.
The sight silenced everyone in the hallway. Tanya’s wailing grew louder, more primal. She broke free from Alistair’s grasp and threw herself at the gurney.
“My baby! My precious girl!”
In the commotion, the sheet slipped partially from Ivy’s face. For a brief, haunting moment, I caught a glimpse of her. Pale, still, all malice gone from her features. She looked younger somehow, almost innocent in death.
A strange calm settled over me as I stepped forward. With gentle hands, I reached out and carefully pulled the sheet back in place, covering Ivy’s face once more. It was a small gesture-perhaps meaningless to anyone else-but for me, it was a final goodbye to the stepsister who had caused me so much pain.
Tanya saw what I did and fell silent, staring at me with a mixture of shock and hatred.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said quietly. And despite everything, I meant it.
Tanya’s face twisted again. “Your sorry means nothing!” she hissed. “You’ll pay for this, Hazel. I’ll make sure everyone knows what you did. How you stood by and let your own sister die when you could have saved her!”
Alistair pulled her back as she lunged at me again. “Tanya, please. Think of your blood pressure.”
“I don’t care! I want her to suffer like my Ivy suffered!”
The doctors were moving Ivy’s body away now, down the long corridor toward the elevator. Tanya broke into fresh sobs, following behind the gurney with Alistair supporting her.
As they passed, Alistair caught my eye. There was something unreadable in his expression-regret? Guilt? Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing he felt
could undo what he’d done.
I stood alone in the hallway, acutely aware of the whispers around me. In the span of minutes, I’d been branded a murderer in the court of public opinion.
The scratch on my cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to the weight of Tanya’s accusation. I knew I hadn’t killed Ivy. But as I watched Alistair comfort my grieving stepmother, I wondered how many others would believe her poisonous lies.
One thing was certain: this was far from over. The death of Ivy Shaw had just unleashed a storm that threatened to destroy everything I’d built.
