Chapter 4 The Gaslighting

The silence inside the hospital room was broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Sebastian lay in the bed, his skin the color of ash, tubes running into his arms like translucent veins.

Seraphina rushed to his side, grabbing his cold hand. "Seb? Can you hear me?"

His eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

The door behind her burst open. It hit the wall with a loud bang.

Harrison marched in. He looked annoyed, straightening his tie as if the hospital room were a boardroom.

"You nearly gave Tiffany a coronary with your aggression out there," he hissed. "She's sensitive, Seraphina. You know about her condition."

Seraphina didn't turn around. She kept her eyes on her brother. "Her brother poisoned mine. And you're worried about her performance?"

"Thomas said Sebastian drank willingly to close a deal," Harrison said, his voice taking on that lecturing tone she hated. "Stop blaming the Sloans for your family's incompetence. Sebastian has always been reckless."

Seraphina felt a vein pulse in her temple. She stood up slowly and turned to face him.

"Get out," she said. "This is a family room. You aren't family."

Harrison stopped. He looked genuinely shocked. For three years, she had been docile. She had been the "yes" wife. This new version of her was alien to him.

"I am your husband," he said, stepping closer. "I paid for this room. I pulled strings to get him into the VIP wing. You should be thanking me."

"I don't want your money. I don't want your help."

"You need my help. You can't afford a band-aid without me."

On the bed, Sebastian stirred. The heart monitor beeped faster. *Beep-beep-beep.*

His eyes opened. They were glassy, weak, but as they focused on Harrison, they sharpened into a glare of pure hatred.

Harrison noticed. He stepped toward the bed, putting on his "benevolent benefactor" mask. "Sebastian, you're awake. We need to talk about your drinking-"

Seraphina moved. She stepped between Harrison and the bed. She placed her hands on Harrison's chest and shoved him. Hard.

"Don't come near him."

Harrison's reflex was instant. He grabbed her wrist to stop her from pushing him again.

He grabbed the right wrist.

Seraphina cried out. It wasn't a protest; it was a sound of pure, physiological distress. The nerves in her damaged wrist ignited like gasoline. The pain blinded her for a second. Her knees buckled.

Harrison let go immediately, looking at his own hand, then at her, confused.

"I barely touched you," he said, defensive. "Stop acting."

Seraphina cradled her wrist against her chest, breathing in shallow gasps. The pain was a white noise in her ears.

"You're hysterical," Harrison concluded, adjusting his cuffs. "I can't deal with this right now. Tiffany needs to go home."

A nurse poked her head in. "Please, keep it down."

Harrison nodded at the nurse, charming and composed. Then he looked at Seraphina with cold eyes.

"I'm taking Tiffany home. She needs rest." He paused. "Don't expect the driver. He's busy with me."

He turned and walked out.

Seraphina stood trembling in the center of the room. She waited until his footsteps faded down the hall.

Then, a weak hand tugged at her sleeve.

She turned back to the bed. Sebastian was looking at her. His voice was a rasp, barely a whisper, but the steel in it was unmistakable.

"Divorce him," Sebastian croaked. "Now."

Seraphina wiped a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "I am, Seb. I am."

Sebastian squeezed her hand. A small, cryptic smile touched his pale lips.

"Good," he whispered, his eyes drifting shut again. "The accounts are secured. It's time to wake the giant."