Chapter 2 - The Crash Wasn’t Simple

I woke three days later at St. Vincent’s Riverside with tubes in both arms, sixteen stitches along my ribs, and Aunt Meredith asleep in the chair beside my bed.

An officer sat outside my room.

“Why is there a cop here?” I whispered.

Meredith woke immediately.

Her silver hair had escaped its clip, and she looked like she hadn’t changed clothes in two days.

“Grace, don’t talk to Daniel alone.”

She almost never called my father Daniel.

“What happened?”

Before she could answer, Dad walked in carrying supermarket daisies.

“Gracie.”

I stared at him.

“You scared us.”

Us.

“I heard you,” I said.

His smile disappeared.

“You were badly hurt.”

“You told them not to waste time on me.”

Meredith stood beside my bed.

Dad lowered his voice.

“Olivia was bleeding. I panicked. You had a concussion.”

“I was conscious.”

Something cold moved behind his eyes.

“Don’t turn a terrible accident into family drama.”

That was when Detective Maria Keller entered.

She was in her mid-forties, dark hair tied low, notebook tucked beneath one arm.

“Mr. Holloway, I need to speak with Grace privately.”

“I’m her father.”

“And she’s twenty years old.”

Dad didn’t move.

The officer appeared behind Keller.

Dad finally left.

Keller closed the door.

“The fire investigator doesn’t believe this was a routine collision.”

My monitor quickened.

“Why?”

“The fuel system had been interfered with recently. We’re still determining whether that was deliberate sabotage or an improper repair.”

Meredith covered her mouth.

Keller continued.

“Your father had the Lincoln at Collins Automotive two days before the crash. The mechanic says he warned him the fuel line was unsafe and told him not to drive the vehicle.”

I remembered the smell.

Dad had known.

Keller asked about Olivia’s comment.

I told her about Boston.

The apartment.

The bank envelope.

“What bank notice?”

I hesitated.

“My mother left money in trust after she died. Dad manages it until I turn twenty-one.”

“How much?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

Keller looked up.

“What do you mean?”

“I requested an accounting last month.”

Meredith went completely still.

“Grace.”

I looked at her.

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She whispered, “Your father told me that account was almost empty years ago.”

It was the first time I realized Dad had been telling different members of the family different versions of the same money.