Vows Dipped In Poison

Chapter3: Everything I Have Left

Clara burst through the hospital doors at ten minutes past eight. Her shoes were wet from the rain outside and they squeaked against the tile floor as she ran toward ward seven.

Grace met her at the elevator. The nurse's face was tight with worry. "The doctors stabilized him, but his blood pressure dropped very low. They think a blood clot formed near his brain."

"Is he conscious?"

"He was drifting in and out when they took him for scans."

Clara followed Grace down the corridor. Her father's bed was empty. She stood beside it, staring at the crumpled sheets and the half-eaten bowl of porridge on the side table. His slippers sat neatly by the bed rail. She had bought them last month because the hospital floor was too cold for his feet.

"Ms. Clara." Grace touched her arm gently. "The scan will take about forty minutes. You should sit."

"What caused this? He was stable yesterday."

Grace hesitated. "The attending doctor will explain everything after the scan. But, Ms. Clara, there is also the matter of the bill. The accounts department called our station three times today."

Clara sat down on the edge of her father's bed. "How much?"

"Including tonight's emergency treatment, the total outstanding balance is two hundred and thirty thousand."

The number hit her like a fist. She had twelve thousand left in her bank account.

"I will handle it," Clara said. "Can you give me until tomorrow?"

Grace nodded and left her alone.

Clara took out her phone and called Raymond. It rang five times before going to voicemail. She called again. This time, he picked up.

"It is nine-thirty at night, Clara."

"My father collapsed. They think he has a blood clot in his brain. I need the money, Raymond. Please."

"I told you. After the divorce is final."

"He might not survive until tomorrow. Please. I am begging you."

A long silence. Then Felicia's voice in the background, muffled but clear enough: "Raymond, who is calling so late? Come back to bed."

Clara's grip on the phone tightened so hard her knuckles cracked.

Raymond's voice returned, lower now. "I will be at the registry office at nine. If you are there, you will have your money by noon. If you are not, this conversation is over permanently." He hung up.

Clara stared at the dark screen. Her father might be dying three floors below her and the man she married could not even pretend to care.

She sat for a moment, thinking. Then she reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace she wore. The pendant was a single sapphire surrounded by small diamonds, set in white gold. Raymond had it designed by a famous jeweler for their wedding. He told her it was one of a kind.

In their first year, she never took it off. When things went bad, she still wore it out of habit. Now, she held it in her palm and felt nothing but the cold weight of metal and stone.

The next morning, Clara was at a high-end jewelry resale shop by eight o'clock. The shop had barely opened. A saleswoman with red nails and a tight smile looked her up and down, taking in her cheap coat and the dark circles under her eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"I want to sell this." Clara placed the necklace on the velvet tray on the counter.

The woman picked it up and examined it. Her eyes widened slightly. "This is a genuine piece. Do you have documentation?"

"Yes." Clara pulled the certificate and original receipt from her bag.

The saleswoman studied the papers. "We would need to verify authenticity. It could take a day or two..."

"I need the money today. Please."

The woman glanced toward the back of the shop. "Let me call our appraiser."

Clara waited. Her heart was thumping in that uneven way that Benjamin warned her about. She could not tell if it was anxiety or her condition worsening.

The shop door chimed. Clara turned.

Felicia walked in wearing a cream-colored dress and heels that clicked on the marble floor. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek bun. Pearl earrings caught the light.

Of all the people in this city, it had to be her.

Felicia spotted Clara at the same moment. Her red lips curved into a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Clara? What a surprise."

The saleswoman rushed to Felicia's side. "Ms. Felicia, welcome back. The bracelet you ordered has arrived. Shall I bring it out?"

"In a moment." Felicia walked closer to the counter. Her gaze fell on the necklace lying on the velvet tray. Something sharpened in her expression. "Is that the sapphire piece Raymond had made?"

Clara reached for the necklace, but Felicia was faster. She picked it up and held it to the light, turning it slowly.

"Beautiful," Felicia said. "He always had good taste. Though I suppose he wasted it on the wrong woman."

"Put it down," Clara said.

Felicia tilted her head. "Are you selling it? Things must be very bad for you."

"It is none of your business."

"Everything about Raymond is my business." Felicia set the necklace back on the tray, then leaned in close enough that only Clara could hear. "I will buy it from you. Name your price. I would love to have something he originally gave to his little charity case."

Clara's hand shot out and closed around the necklace. She pulled it off the tray and shoved it into her bag. "I am not selling to you."

"Why not? You clearly need the money. Your pride will not pay your father's hospital bills."

Clara's chest burned. She could feel her heartbeat skipping, the irregular flutter that Benjamin said was dangerous. She needed to stay calm.

"Enjoy your shopping, Felicia." Clara turned and walked toward the door.

"Clara." Felicia's voice followed her. "Everyone in this city knows that Raymond is mine. He was mine before you, and he will be mine after you. The only difference is that now, he does not have to pretend anymore."

Clara pushed through the door and stepped into the street. The morning sun was too bright. Her vision blurred at the edges. She pressed her hand against her chest and leaned against the shop window, breathing in short gasps.

Her phone buzzed. A notification from the hospital: "Reminder: Outstanding balance of 230,000. Please settle at your earliest convenience."

And beneath that, a missed call from a number she had not seen in twelve years. Her mother. Evelyn.

Clara stared at the screen. She had not spoken to Evelyn since the woman walked out of their house when Clara was ten years old, leaving her crying on the doorstep.

But her father was dying. She had no money. And the registry office would not open for another thirty minutes.

Clara pressed the call-back button before she could change her mind.