Touch My Daughter Againn

Alderwick Clinic called its recovery suites private, but Nora Shaw knew the word was only for people who could afford silence.

The room sat high above London, bright with gray daylight and sealed behind sliding glass. Machines blinked with soft, unreadable light. Elegant blinds laid thin shadows across the white bedding, and the city beyond the window looked clean enough to be innocent.

Nora lay half-raised against pillows, trying not to move the side of her face that hurt most.

The bruise around her left eye had gone from red to yellow-purple. A scratch cut under her cheekbone. Her lower lip had split the night before when she fell against the bathroom sink after trying to stand too quickly.

At least, that was the version Oliver wanted the clinic to believe.

Oliver Vale stood near the foot of the bed in a moss-green linen shirt, both hands twisting together. He looked thirty years old in the face and thirteen in the spine.

His mother stood beside Nora's bed as if she owned the mattress, the air, and the pain inside it.

Cassandra Vale was short, heavyset, and polished to a hard shine. Platinum hair. Pearl earrings. Charcoal suit. A gold pin shaped like a flower on her lapel. She smelled faintly of powder and cold expensive soap.

"I warned you," Cassandra said. "Girls like you always become accidents."

Nora turned her eyes toward Oliver.

He flinched before she even spoke.

"Tell her," Nora whispered.

Oliver opened his mouth. No words came out.

Cassandra smiled without warmth. "Tell me what? That you tripped again? That you cried again? That my son is exhausted because you cannot manage your own life?"

Nora's fingers tightened around the sheet.

She had thought love meant patience. Then patience became hiding bruises. Then hiding bruises became lying to nurses. Now she was in a luxury room paid for by the same family that wanted her quiet.

Cassandra stepped closer.

"So this is your plan now? Act helpless and steal my son from his family?"

Oliver grabbed her wrist from behind. "Mom, please stop."

For one second, Nora thought he might finally choose her.