Chapter 3 - REBECCA’S WARNINGHannah did not scream.
That surprised her.
Instead, she locked the bedroom door, checked Nicholas’s breathing, and searched every corner of the room.
Nothing.
The window was secured.
The balcony door was locked.
Whoever had opened her nursing case had either possessed a key or knew exactly how to bypass the lock.
Nicholas woke while she was checking beneath the bed.
“If you’re looking for assassins,” he muttered, “they usually hide somewhere more dignified.”
Hannah stood.
“Someone opened my case.”
That woke him completely.
“What was taken?”
“The tablet.”
Nicholas stared at her.
“What was left?”
Hannah showed him the note.
His face changed.
Not fear.
Anger.
The version of Nicholas Valenti Chicago remembered appeared for half a second.
“Call Walter.”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know who to trust.”
“You think Walter did this?”
“I think somebody inside this house did.”
“That includes you.”
“Correct.”
He almost smiled.
“You’re terrible at comforting patients.”
“You told me not to inspire you.”
Hannah checked the hallway herself before returning.
Nicholas read the note again.
“Rebecca would have liked you.”
The name made Hannah look up.
“You never finished telling me about her.”
Nicholas became quiet.
Rebecca Valenti had been two years younger than him.
Brilliant.
Stubborn.
Studying public-interest law when the family expected her to become another decorative Valenti board member.
“She hated what our family was becoming,” Nicholas said.
“What was it becoming?”
“Exactly what people said it was.”
He didn’t pretend innocence.
Hannah respected that more than denial.
“Rebecca wanted me to walk away from parts of the business.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“She died before she could ask again.”
Nicholas looked toward the window.
Her car had gone through a barrier on a rain-slick road outside Milwaukee.
The official finding was driver error.
Rebecca had been twenty-one.
“I spent years telling myself she was reckless,” Nicholas said. “It was easier.”
“Easier than what?”
“Wondering whether she had been right about everything.”
The next morning Hannah began changing procedures.
She personally counted every tablet.
Photographed sealed pharmacy packages.
Logged times.
Recorded symptoms.
She requested that all medication deliveries be handed directly to her.
Claire objected instantly.
“You’re behaving as if this is a prison.”
“I’m behaving as if somebody entered my medical case.”
Claire looked genuinely startled.
Or acted genuinely startled.
“You should report that.”
“I am.”
“To whom?”
“You’re looking at the report.”
Claire’s mouth tightened.
Walter entered the breakfast room.
“What happened?”
Hannah told him.
Walter’s face remained unreadable.
“I’ll investigate staff access.”
“I want camera footage.”
“You’re a nurse.”
“And someone tampered with medication.”
Walter considered her.
“You’ll have it by noon.”
At 12:14, Hannah received the footage.
At 12:16, she discovered a problem.
The hallway camera outside Nicholas’s suite had stopped recording for exactly seventeen minutes.
From 2:03 until 2:20.
The same period during which she had been with Nicholas.
Someone had deleted it.
Walter stood beside her computer.
“Only three people can erase archived security footage.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
He paused.
“Nicholas.”
Another pause.
“And Luca Valenti.”
Hannah had heard the name.
Nicholas’s cousin.
Chief operating officer of Valenti Logistics.
He had managed much of the business since Nicholas’s accident.
“Was Luca here last night?”
Walter’s expression tightened.
“His driver entered through the east gate at 1:41.”
Hannah turned.
“Why?”
“He claims he delivered documents.”
“Did he?”
“Apparently.”
“Where is the footage?”
“Deleted.”
Hannah leaned back.
“Convenient.”
Walter glanced at her.
“That word rarely describes anything in this family.”
Luca arrived that afternoon.
He was thirty-three, clean-shaven, charming, and looked nothing like the villain Hannah’s imagination had constructed.
He carried flowers for Claire and a chess set for Nicholas.
When introduced to Hannah, he smiled warmly.
“The legendary fourth nurse.”
“Fifth.”
“Already correcting me. Nicholas must adore you.”
Nicholas, seated near the library fireplace, looked annoyed.
“I tolerate her.”
Luca laughed.
“From you, cousin, that’s practically a proposal.”
Claire laughed too.
Hannah didn’t.
She watched Luca place the chessboard on a table.
His cuff rode up.
There was a small cut across his thumb.
Meaningless.
Probably.
Then Hannah noticed something else.
A silver keycard protruded from his wallet.
The same style used for staff-secured rooms.
Medication storage included.
That night Ethan called.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“My cardiologist said maybe November.”
Hannah sat straighter.
“November?”
“For surgery.”
Her throat tightened.
They had been told six months.
Possibly nine.
“Who called you?”
“The hospital.”
“Did they say why?”
“No.”
Ethan lowered his voice dramatically.
“Maybe the cranes worked.”
Hannah smiled despite herself.
“Maybe.”
“I made one for your patient.”
“My patient?”
“The grumpy one.”
“Ethan.”
“What? You said he’s grumpy.”
“I said complicated.”
“That’s adult code for grumpy.”
The next afternoon Hannah’s neighbor had an emergency and could not collect Ethan from school.
For the first time, Hannah brought him to the estate.
He entered the library holding a crooked blue paper crane.
Nicholas stared at him.
Ethan stared back.
“So you’re the mafia guy.”
Hannah nearly died.
“Ethan.”
Nicholas’s eyebrows rose.
“That depends who’s asking.”
“I’m Ethan.”
“Then no.”
Ethan considered that.
“Okay.”
He walked forward and put the crane on Nicholas’s table.
“This is for your legs.”
Nicholas looked at it.
“My legs?”
“It’s a wish.”
“I don’t believe in wishes.”
“That’s fine. The crane does.”
Nicholas looked toward Hannah.
She shrugged.
“His science is unconventional.”
Ethan noticed the wheelchair controls.
“How fast does that go?”
“Not fast enough.”
“Can it do a wheelie?”
“No.”
“Have you tried?”
Nicholas looked suddenly offended.
“Obviously.”
Ethan grinned.
Something softened in Nicholas’s face.
That evening, long after Ethan had left, Hannah found the blue crane beside Nicholas’s bed.
Not discarded.
Not crushed.
Carefully placed.
She was closing the curtains when Nicholas spoke.
“His surgery.”
Hannah turned.
“How did you know?”
“Walter mentioned it during your background check.”
Her body stiffened.
“You investigated my brother?”
“I investigate everyone who sleeps under my roof.”
“He doesn’t.”
“You do.”
Hannah crossed her arms.
“Did you move his surgery date?”
Nicholas didn’t answer.
“Nicholas.”
“Yes.”
Anger arrived before gratitude.
“You had no right.”
“He needed surgery.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“No.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to interfere in our lives.”
He stared at her.
“Then cancel it.”
She went silent.
They both knew she wouldn’t.
Nicholas looked away.
“I’m not trying to own your gratitude.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Making sure the person protecting me doesn’t spend every night wondering whether her eight-year-old brother will still be alive next year.”
Hannah’s anger weakened.
Not disappeared.
But weakened.
Nicholas continued quietly.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
For once, Hannah believed him.
The next day, a private laboratory called.
Hannah had managed to save a second unidentified tablet.
The preliminary result was concerning.
It contained a medication Nicholas had never been prescribed—one capable of causing profound weakness, confusion, dangerous blood-pressure changes, and neurological symptoms when given repeatedly.
Hannah immediately called Nicholas.
No answer.
She called Walter.
No answer.
Then Claire.
No answer.
Hannah ran upstairs.
Nicholas wasn’t there.
His wheelchair wasn’t there.
She heard voices coming from the conservatory.
Claire.
Luca.
And Nicholas.
Hannah approached quietly.
Through the partly open door she saw Nicholas at a table.
A document lay in front of him.
Claire held a pen.
Luca stood behind his chair.
Nicholas looked pale.
Too pale.
Claire leaned down.
“Just sign it.”
Nicholas shook his head weakly.
“What is it?”
“Routine authority while you recover.”
Hannah stepped into the room.
“Take the pen away from him.”
Three faces turned.
Claire’s eyes went cold.
Luca smiled.
“Hannah.”
She held up her phone.
“I just got Nicholas’s toxicology result.”
The smile disappeared.
Nicholas looked at her.
“What did they find?”
Hannah stared at Claire.
Then Luca.
May you like
“Someone has been drugging you.”
And for the first time since she arrived at the Valenti estate, nobody pretended she was imagining things.
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