She paused.
“And they’ll underestimate you one last time.”
—
It happened just after noon.
I heard them before I saw them.
Laughter.
Light, careless, cruel laughter echoing down the hospital hallway.
My stomach turned, but I didn’t move. I kept my eyes half-closed, my breathing slow—playing the role they expected.
Weak.
Helpless.
Broken.
The door swung open without a knock.
“Well, look who’s still alive,” Beatrice said.
Her voice was dripping with mock concern.
Mason stood behind her, hands in his pockets, like this was nothing more than a casual visit. Richard lingered near the door, avoiding my eyes.
I forced myself to look up slowly.
“Mason…” I whispered.
He smirked.
“You really made a mess of things, didn’t you?”
Beatrice stepped closer to the bed, crossing her arms.
“I told you what would happen if you kept disrespecting me.”
My heart pounded—but I stayed silent.
Let them talk.
Let them hang themselves.
Mason walked to the side of the bed and leaned down slightly.
“Maybe this will finally teach you to obey,” he said, echoing his words from that night.
There it was.
Clear.
Cold.
Recorded.
Beatrice laughed.
“She needed to be reminded of her place. Honestly, we were too soft on her before.”
Richard shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Oh, stop,” Beatrice snapped. “It’s not like she can do anything about it.”
Angela had told me not to rush.
Wait for more.
I swallowed hard. “Why… didn’t you take me to the hospital?” I asked weakly.
Mason shrugged.
“You weren’t dying.”
Beatrice added, almost proudly, “And if we had taken you, you might’ve told someone. This way, you learned your lesson first.”
Richard finally spoke, voice low.
“She was screaming for hours…”
Mason rolled his eyes. “And? She survived, didn’t she?”
That was enough.
More than enough.
Every word was a nail in their own coffin.
I slowly reached toward the side of my bed and pressed the call button.
Footsteps echoed almost immediately.
The door opened again—but this time, it wasn’t laughter that filled the room.
It was silence.
Two police officers stepped inside, followed by Angela.
Mason straightened instantly. “What the hell is this?”
Angela didn’t even look at him.
She looked at me.
And gave a small nod.
“It’s done.”
One of the officers stepped forward.
“Mason Carter, Beatrice Carter, Richard Carter—you are being detained in connection with an ongoing investigation involving aggravated assault, unlawful imprisonment, and domestic abuse.”
Beatrice’s face went white.
“This is ridiculous!” she snapped. “She fell—”
“Actually,” Angela interrupted calmly, holding up her phone, “we have a full recording of everything you just said.”
The room froze.
