Chapter 3 Shattered World

"I'm sorry," he said softly, and at that moment, Annabelle's perfect world began to crumble.

"Your father died instantly and your mother was badly injured, she's been put under."

Anna sank slowly until she was sitting down on the floor, both hands holding her head. Liquid flowed freely from her eyes and nose, but she didn't care about decency. She flashed back to the heated argument she had with her father the previous day. It had not been up to 24 hours and he was gone just like that?

'Dad is dead. Dad is dead, and the last thing he said to me was that I disappointed him? No, it can't be. There has to be a mistake somewhere.'

She stood up and wiped her face with the hem of her jacket. She faced Officer Martinez, "Can you take me to him? He might not be the one, I'll identify him myself."

He gave her a pitiful look and held her shoulders. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Bennett, but there was no mistake about his identity." He took her to Elizabeth's ward instead.

Anna gaped at her still form under the white hospital sheets. Her usually neat, combed hair was a tangled mess. A breathing tube extended from her mouth, and she was connected to several machines. Her face was pale and swollen with purple bruises on her cheekbones, and her entire left arm and left leg was wrapped in a cast. She almost couldn't recognize her. It seemed surreal but the soft beeping of the monitors and the hum of ventilators, which filled the air impressed the reality on Anna.

A fresh wave of tears welled down her eyes as she cried silently. "Why?" She mused. "Why did it have to be you?" She moved closer and gently brushed her fingers over Elizabeth's hands. It was so cold, it was hard to believe it was these hands that hugged her so lovingly the previous day. Quiet, hot tears spilled over from her eyes as she pressed her forehead to the side of the bed.

As if on cue, the policeman left, shutting the door gently behind him. A doctor and a nurse arrived shortly after, the policeman probably informed them of her arrival.

"The traumatic brain injury is our primary concern," Dr. Hassan, the presiding doctor, explained. "We've induced a coma while waiting for the swelling in her brain to reduce. We won't know the extent of the damage unless she wakes up."

"When she wakes up," Anna corrected, her voice already hoarse from crying.

Dr. Hassan paused to acknowledge the meaning of her words. "We're doing everything we can, Miss Bennett."

Anna lifted her head. "How long will it take before she wakes up?"

"Days, maybe weeks. Brain injuries are not predictable."

"Okay." Anna's voice sounded strange to her own ears. "What do I need to do now? Insurance or surgery forms... anything?

Dr. Hassan exchanged a glance with the nurse beside him. "Miss Bennett, I think we should discuss this in my office."

They took a long walk down the corridor. Dr. Hassan's office was big, but it was cramped with medical journals everywhere. It was like a teenager's disorganized room. He offered her the only empty chair apart from the one he sat on.

"The insurance situation is... a bit complicated," he began, settling behind his desk. "Your mother's policy covers the initial treatment, but the intensive care she'll need from specialists, rehabilitation if she... sorry, when she wakes up, and the potential long-term care are not included. It's going to require large amounts of money."

Anna felt the walls around the room tilt slightly. "How much?"

"For the immediate future, we're looking at roughly three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. If she requires long-term care..." He spread his hands helplessly. "It could be much more."

Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money for a jobless artist. Anna had maybe eight hundred dollars in her account after paying rent. Her father had said her love for art would not feed her, and she hated to acknowledge how right he was at the moment.

"I'll figure it out," she said, although she didn't know how or what to do.

"You can pick up the bill at the accounting section." He said and dismissed her.

She picked up the bill and skimmed it, her eyes fixed on the total estimate. Twenty-five thousand dollars for just one day of treatment. And then after that, they'd watch her symptoms to determine the next line of action.

She paced the hospital waiting area as she thought of how she could raise that amount of money on such short notice. She could sell her laptop, pawn all of her and her mother's jewelry, and in time, put up the house for sale. She tried totaling everything mentally and sat in frustration. If only her dad were alive, money wouldn't be a problem. He always handled the family expenses without stress.

Thinking of her dad made her remember he should have money somewhere. He was one of the big-shot lawyers in Boston. She went for her bag in her mother's room and rushed down to his firm.

"Gosh," she hit her forehead with the heel of her palm, "I should have thought of this first instead of trying to solve a puzzle not meant for me."

Since he had thrown her out for choosing a starving career, that means he earns tons of money. Her mind was occupied as she sat in the taxi.

* * *

Anna stood outside Bennett & Associates, the law firm her father had built from nothing over twenty-five years. She remembered many trips to her father's office as a child, playing with her favorite doll while he finished up his work.

Inside, the building was polished marble with rich wood paneling. Anna had always been proud of the empire her father had built here. She had once thought she would be the princess who would take over this empire.

"Annabelle!" Eugene Morrison appeared in the reception area before she could announce herself. Her father's business partner was a tall, thin man with graying hair. He wore an expensive suit, and his lips held a cigar stick.

"My dear lil Anna," he said as he hugged her the way he'd always done. "I'm so sorry about James. And Elizabeth, how is she?"

"She's alive," Anna said, surprised by how little emotion she showed despite the depth of it in her. "Eugene, I came to ask you about how I can access Dad's accounts. Mum's hospital bills...""

"Oh, sweetheart." Eugene's face crumpled in disappointment. "You don't know, do you? Come, let's talk in my office."

Eugene's office was smaller than her father's had been, but it was also impressive. Law books lined the shelf on the walls, and two neat piles of legal briefs were on his desk. He gestured for Anna to sit, then poured himself a drink.

"What would you like to have?"

"I'm okay, thanks."

"Your father had been under investigation before the accident," he said without preamble. "There were irregularities in some client accounts, so the district attorney's office froze all his assets last week pending a full audit."

Anna stared at him. "He didn't mention anything like that."

"You know his pride. He probably thought he'd handle it quietly without making you guys worry." Eugene took a large swallow of scotch. "In fact, we were supposed to meet..." He stopped short as if he was about to spill a secret but caught himself.

"What?" Anna asked.

"Never mind," he waved. "He just kept saying it was a misunderstanding that would be cleared up soon." Eugene set down his glass and rubbed his temples. "Your father was my best friend for twenty years. He was the most ethical man I knew. I trust him, but the numbers didn't tally. There was nothing we could do about it."

"How much money are we talking about?"

"Nearly two million dollars."

The number hit Anna like a physical blow. Two million dollars. No wonder the DA had frozen everything.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" she asked quietly.

"It means everything is tied up in investigations and legal proceedings that could take God-knows-how-long to resolve. And until then, you can't touch the house, cars, and his bank accounts." Eugene leaned forward, his expression sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Annabelle. I know this makes everything more difficult."

Anna stood, her legs shaking and unsteady. Her father was dead, her mother was fighting for life, and now she was practically penniless until lawyers and accountants sorted through James Bennett's assets and decided if she could have access to what he spent his whole life working for.

"Thank you," she said as she rose.

"Annabelle, you can rest assured I'll do my best to reclaim his assets."

She was already walking toward the door. "Thank you."

Her head was empty of ideas on what to do next.