I’d barely managed to swallow two bites of dry toast when the door opened. Natalie walked in first, wearing her usual sharp blazer like she was arriving at a board meeting. Right behind her was a tall man in a navy suit. My best guess was her attorney or some financial adviser she’d roped in.
“Well, you look functional,” Natalie said, glancing at the sling.
“I’m alive,” I said, not giving her more than that.
She set a small bag of fruit on the bedside table without looking at me.
“We should talk about Aunt Evelyn’s estate,” she started, already flipping open a folder she’d brought.
The man in the suit stepped forward. “I’m Andrew. I help your sister manage her portfolio. She thought it might be smart to include me.”
“I already have someone,” I interrupted, keeping my tone even. “And he’s not you.”
Natalie’s smile was tight. “Colleen, this isn’t about control. It’s about making sure you don’t make mistakes with something this significant.”
I leaned back against the pillow. “The only mistake would be letting you anywhere near it.”
That landed harder than she expected. She recovered quickly, glancing at Andrew, who shifted uncomfortably.
Before she could push back, Denise stepped in with a clipboard. “Sorry, I need to check her IV line. This will take a few minutes.”
It was the kind of nurse move that wasn’t just medical. It was tactical.
Natalie knew when she’d been dismissed. She gathered her things, told me she’d be in touch, and left with Andrew in tow.
Denise adjusted the drip and muttered, “You need me to start screening your visitors?”
“Wouldn’t hurt,” I said.
The rest of the morning was blissfully uneventful. I managed to get a call into Mark, who confirmed he’d be at the hospital tomorrow with the trust paperwork.
“You’re going to want to be sitting down for this,” he said.
“I’ll manage,” I told him.
Lunch came and went. The bland chicken and mashed potatoes weren’t winning any awards, but they were better than breakfast.
I was halfway through a mindless news segment on television when another knock came. This one was sharper, faster.
A woman stepped inside. Early thirties, dark hair pulled into a neat bun, wearing a fitted black coat. She stopped short when she saw me. Her eyes widened, and she actually took a step back.
“You’re my C.O.,” she blurted.
It took me a second to place her. “Lieutenant Madison Clark,” I said. “Harbor Logistics team, right?”
She nodded quickly, glancing toward the door. “I didn’t know you were Natalie’s sister.”
My grip on the bed rail tightened. “And I didn’t know she had you showing up here.”
Madison looked uncomfortable, shifting her weight. “I came with her. She didn’t tell me we were visiting you specifically. Said she was checking in on family.”
Denise was at the door now, watching the exchange like a referee.
Natalie appeared a moment later, clearly annoyed to find Madison already talking to me. “Madison, wait outside, please,” she said.
But Madison didn’t move. She was looking at me now with the sharp, calculating look of someone fitting puzzle pieces together.
“You’ve been the one signing the operational budget approvals,” she said slowly. “Not the committee, like she told us.”
Natalie’s tone turned icy. “Madison, it’s fine.”
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