[Cordelia]
It's funny how many things happen at the Steele Family Hotel and Spa.
After taking a proper shower and putting on some fresh clothing, I find myself standing outside of a familiar hotel suite, my hand poised near the door ready to knock. Only this time, I'm not here to find Atlas.
I know where he is.
This time I'm here to meet someone else who might become very important to me soon.
As soon as my hand connects with the wood, Crissy Devaroux Bryant opens the door. She looks out of breath as if she ran to open it so that I didn't need to wait in the hall.
"Come in," she steps aside, her face bright. "I am so happy you called."
"Are you sure?" I duck my head, embarrassed at the thought of being a bother.
"Of course," she leads me to a couch to sit on and offers me something to drink. I gladly take a warm cup of tea from her hands and she tells me about how she has wanted nothing more than to get
[Cordelia]"Come with you? But what about Atlas?" I gasp. "How could I leave him when he is so vulnerable? I'd be by his side right now if they'd let me.""I apologize if this sounds crass," she holds her hands out expressively as she talks, using them for emphasis as she says, "He is in a coma. We don't know when he'll be back."If ever.She doesn't say it but we both know that he may never come back. He could die in his sleep tonight, never waking from his medically induced stupor."I know that if were him, and you were my wife," she smirks raising a knowing eyebrow, "I'd want you to take care of yourself and your baby. All this stress is not good for you." I hadn't even told her about the bedrest. If she knew about that, she might not let me leave the room."You need the time to rest and recuperate. I'm not saying you should stay in Vancouver forever, but maybe a week or two of rest will be exactly what you need to fight your next b
[Cordelia]"I found some writing," I announce, running my fingertips underneath the writing that is almost too small to read. "Fisher Pharmaceuticals. Have you ever heard of them? The name sounds familiar.""Nope," Tilly shakes her head as goes about making up a new batch of popcorn. "Sounds important though."Fisher. Where have I heard that name before?And then it strikes me. Looking through my things, I find the card that Magnus had given to me before when we met for hot chocolate. I compare it to the one on the envelope.It is identical. Both the card and the envelope have the same fish logo."Magnus Fisher," I mumble aloud as I drop the envelope, not wanting to touch it more than necessary.I'm not worried that he poisoned it, although maybe I should considering everything he's done. I'm worried that whatever is in that envelope might poison my mind in some other way.Sometimes words can be the most
[The Nurse]When my shift started this evening, I was handed a contract.That is an unusual start to my day, even with the week we've had with injured celebrities and the police in and out of this ward. But my supervisor assures us that we will receive bonuses far above our usual hourly rate for providing this service, a service we are not allowed to know about until after we sign this document stating that we understand our legal rights.I need the money, so I take the contract and read it over. It's a pretty standard NDA, so I don't bother with going over the details too closely, satisfied that this document will help protect my rights as much as the rights of the patient.Once I return the contract to my supervisor who takes me to another room. With procedures like this, something can easily go wrong. Concentration is important, maybe even more so than experience or knowledge. What I'm being asked to do feels wrong, but I am not to question my orders or the wishes of my client, who
[Cordelia]"Well if you won't open it," Tilly takes the envelope from me. "I will."With a deft finger, she swipes open the package and carefully pours the contents onto the coffee table next to me. Inside is a note, a passport, a credit card, a copy of my birth certificate, and approximately 50,000 USD.The note is handwritten in a beautiful script, like something out of a forgotten time when people still wrote with quills. In long, fluid letters it read:__________________________Ms. Bryant,You neglected to collect your early present from the bank, so I thought it might be more convenient to have it delivered to your door. I hope you don't mind my forwardness in assuming you might need these materials as you start your new life. If you ever need help, please don't hesitate to reach out.In Fidelity,Magnus Fisher. ___________________________"So this is what was in the safe deposit box," Tilly picks up one of the stacks of cash and thumbs through it. "What is he helping you plan
[Cordelia]Tilly touches my shoulder. My mouth forms the words "Atlas is dead," but I can't hear the sound of my voice over the loud hum building in my ears as my blood pressure skyrockets and my vision blurs. The sound of Tilly calling Clark in the background feels like a low buzz of white noise. Placing my hands on the table, I take large, gasping breaths. How did this happen? They said he was in a coma. How can you have a heart attack in a coma?"Please don't be true, please don't be true, please don't be true." The universe would not be so cruel to bring us together only to tear us apart right as we finally find one another. Tilly looks in my direction as tears roll down her cheeks, "Cordy..." she steps forward, setting her phone down gently on the table as she collapses on the floor next to me, holding her arms open. I accept her silent offer and allow her to rock us both back and forth as we cry together. I don't hear Clark come in, but I do feel his familiar warmth as he and
That night, after burying Atlas and reading of his will, I flew to Vancouver with my mother, Cristiana. Although now I just call her mother, as over the last two months she has been a remarkable treasure, a best friend I always needed and didn't know I was missing. Once we were given the chance to know one another, we bonded instantly. With my help, she finalized her divorce from my father, David Bryant.I had a suspicion that he was behind a lot of Sydney's mischief, and with a little bit of digging, we were able to uncover evidence that he had been supplying her with money and other resources to break up me and Atlas. With my knowledge of the events and timing, we also found receipts that showed huge amounts of the aphrodisiac she had used to drug the wine ordered through David Bryant and shipped to her in California.At first, he protested, refusing to give her a divorce, knowing that after 30 years of marriage, she'd be entitled to half his wealth. Especially since they never sign
[Cordelia]Holding my breath, I stare at the package. A chill runs up my back as a feeling of deja vu washes over me. It's just like all the other packages before, only usually they aren't delivered directly to my work. I wonder what makes this one so special."You know what, Mother," My smile and tone a bit sharp, my body tight with anxiety as I look at the offerings left on my desk. "Why don't we meet up for lunch? We can discuss the designs then over food. Then we can look at it with fresh eyes and a full stomach." "Aren't you going to open it?" she looks at the package slyly as she stands and gathers the sketches scattered on my desk. "At least check to see if there is a note." "There isn't one," I don't even need to look to know this. This isn't the first package I've received. None of them have ever had a note. The packages began arriving two days after I first landed here in Vancouver. The first package contained a beautiful new sketchbook and a set of pens. At the time I a
[Cordelia]It is light, barely more than tape and paper.Carefully I peel back the simple brown paper to reveal a box with the logo of a local jeweler. I double-check for a card to see if this package is from someone else because my anonymous present sender has never sent me anything expensive.Inside the larger box is a smaller green velvet box. Inside is a silver locket on a long silver chain. It is an elegant piece, simple and warms to my touch as I pull it out of the box. Inside I find a small dried flower placed in front of a photo of the California coastline. It looks like wild mustard, a weed that flourishes along the California coast--A little touch of home. On the other side, there is room for a picture, and I know that as soon as Jasper is born, I will place his little face there. My finger feels the gentle edges of an engraving. Flipping the locket to the back side, I see a large swooping C and S intertwined. "Cordelia Steele," I whisper as I open the locket again. It is