Chapter 4

The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor hummed, a monotonous sound that grated on Fiona's already frayed nerves. She paced back and forth outside the cardiologist's office at New York-Presbyterian, waiting for news about her grandmother, Eileen Donovan.

The door opened and Dr. Julian Mercer stepped out. His face was tired, but he was smiling-a genuine, relieved smile that made her heart leap into her throat. Julian had been a few years ahead of her in college, a kind acquaintance who had since become Eileen's trusted doctor.

"Fiona," he said, his voice warm. "We found one. A heart. It's a near-perfect match."

The words washed over her, a tidal wave of relief so powerful it almost buckled her knees. Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring his smiling face. This was it. This was the reason for all of it-the sham marriage, the humiliation, the constant fear. It was all for this moment.

"Oh, thank God," she sobbed, grabbing his hand. "Thank you, Julian. Thank you."

He explained the details-the surgery was scheduled for the following week, there were forms to sign, and the hospital's finance department would need to finalize the financial arrangements beforehand.

"The cost isn't an issue," she said quickly, wiping her eyes. The statement sounded so foreign coming from her own mouth. Julian looked surprised but didn't press the issue.

She practically floated into Eileen's room. Her grandmother was frail against the stark white pillows, but her eyes lit up when Fiona entered. She told her the news, and Eileen's own eyes filled with tears of joy. They hugged, a fragile embrace filled with more hope than either of them had felt in years.

The moment was shattered when the door creaked open.

Her aunt, Brenda Boggs, and her cousin, Crystal Paskiewicz, walked in as if they owned the place. Brenda, who hadn't visited once in the last six months, was carrying a cheap-looking fruit basket and wearing a smile that didn't reach her greedy eyes. Crystal, a year younger than Fiona, was openly gawking at Fiona's simple but well-made dress, her expression a sour mix of envy and resentment.

They had obviously heard the news.

"Fiona, darling!" Brenda gushed, after a brief, performative fuss over Eileen. "I heard you married a Montgomery! My goodness, you've really landed on your feet."

Fiona just nodded, her jaw tight.

Brenda didn't waste any time. She launched into a long, whining story about her car breaking down and a leaky roof, her eyes darting towards Fiona expectantly. The implication was clear.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Aunt Brenda," Fiona said, her voice cool. "But I can't help you."

Crystal scoffed from the corner. "Wow. Married into money for five minutes and already too good for your own family."

Fiona's patience snapped. "This is not the time or the place." She didn't want to argue in front of her grandmother.

But Brenda was relentless. "Well, I just think it's wonderful that you can afford this big, expensive surgery for your grandma," she said, her voice dripping with insinuation. "It's amazing what a girl will do for family."

The veiled accusation hung in the air, ugly and suffocating.

"That's enough," Fiona warned, her voice low.

Eileen, sensing the rising tension, looked exhausted. "Brenda, maybe you and Crystal should go. I need to rest."

After they'd finally left, a heavy silence settled over the room. Fiona saw the worry in her grandmother's eyes and felt a fresh wave of resolve wash over her.

It wasn't just Holland and his family she had to worry about. It was them, too. Vultures, circling, drawn by the scent of money they thought she now possessed.

She had to protect her secret. She had to protect her grandmother. And she had to protect the tiny, fragile life inside her from all of it.

She took a deep breath, forced a reassuring smile for Eileen, and began talking about post-surgery physical therapy, building a wall of normalcy around them. Inside, though, the fear was hardening into something else. Something like armor.

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