Chapter 3 - The Empty Trust
The sterile white walls of St. Jude’s pediatric ICU felt like a sanctuary compared to the police precinct.
When I walked back into Maisie’s room, she was sitting up slightly against her pillows, clutching her yellow blanket with one hand while a nurse gently fed her a few spoonfuls of apple juice. Her cheeks had regained a bit of color, and her big, round eyes blinked sleepily as she looked at me.
"Mama," she whispered, her voice still hoarse.
I rushed to the side of the bed, falling to my knees and burying my face gently against her small shoulder, careful not to dislodge the IV in her hand. "I'm right here, baby. Mama's right here. I'm never leaving you."
Dr. Vance, the attending pediatrician, stood by the monitor, tapping notes onto a digital tablet. He looked down at me with a sympathetic expression.
"The toxicology results are back, Mrs. Holloway," Dr. Vance said quietly, motioning me to step out into the hallway for a moment. I kissed Maisie’s forehead, whispered a promise to be right back, and stepped through the sliding glass door.
"What did they give her?" I asked, my fists clenched so tight my fingernails bit into my palms.
"Lorazepam," Dr. Vance said flatly. "A high dose of a powerful prescription benzodiazepine. It’s a central nervous system depressant. In an adult, it causes drowsiness and memory loss. In a two-year-old child of Maisie's weight, an unmonitored dose like that could easily have caused respiratory depression or a coma. Frankly, it is a miracle she woke up at all after being left in a metal dumpster in those morning temperatures."
My chest tightened, a wave of pure, unadulterated fury washing over me. My parents didn't just want her out of the way for a beauty pageant—they had knowingly risked her life, treating her like disposable trash.
"Is she going to have long-term effects?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Physically, she’s resilient. Children are remarkable that way. She’ll need observation for twenty-four hours, but she should make a full recovery," Dr. Vance reassured me. He placed a hand on my arm. "However, you need to know that we’ve already filed a mandatory report with child protective services, and hospital security has logged the police case number. This isn't just a family dispute anymore, Mrs. Holloway. This is attempted murder."
"I know," I said. "And I intend to see it through to the end."
As Dr. Vance walked away, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an incoming call from an unrecognized, restricted number.
I swiped the screen and pressed it to my ear.
"Audrey?"
It was my sister, Tessa. She sounded terrified, her voice shaking violently between jagged breaths.
"Tessa," I said coldly. "How is Sadie's hair looking?"
"Audrey, please," Tessa sobbed over the line. "Mom and Dad were arrested. The police dragged them out of the store twenty minutes ago in handcuffs. Marcus Thorne tried to help, but then the utility company cut the power, and the bank froze all the corporate accounts. Everyone is panicking. The store is locked down!"
"Good," I replied. "You should start packing your bags, too, Tessa. You helped throw the bottle in the dumpster. The police have security footage from the alley loading dock. You're an accomplice."
"An accomplice?!" Tessa screamed, her voice pitching high in panic. "I was just doing what Mom told me! She said if I didn't help, she’d cut me out of the family inheritance! She said—"
"What inheritance, Tessa?" I interrupted, my tone icy. "Did Mom ever show you the actual trust documents? Did she ever let you read grandfather’s real will?"
A heavy silence fell over the line.
"What... what are you talking about?" Tessa whispered.
"Grandfather didn't leave Holloway Home & Tool to Warren and Elaine," I said softly, letting every word sink like lead into her conscience. "He left it to me. Every square inch of land, every dollar in the corporate reserve, every asset they’ve been bragging about for the last ten years—it all belongs to the trust I control. For three years, they let me live in that cramped guest apartment and treated me like their unpaid maid, while I let them play lord and master over a kingdom they didn't even own."
"No..." Tessa whimpered. "That's... that's not true. Mom said—"
"Mom lied to you, Tessa. Just like she lied about everything else." I hung up the phone without another word.
I slid the phone back into my pocket, took a deep breath, and walked back into Maisie’s hospital room. My daughter looked up, smiled weakly, and held out her yellow blanket.
May you like
"Blankie," she mumbled.
I climbed up onto the edge of the narrow hospital bed, wrapping my arms around my little girl, and pulled the yellow blanket over both of us. The war had just begun, and I was going to strip the Holloways of every single thing they held dear.
