Chapter 5 - The Cost of Staying Alive
Clara woke beneath a blanket that smelled like clean cotton.
Her first thought was Noel.
Her second was the bill.
She tried to sit.
A nurse appeared.
“Easy.”
“My daughter—”
“With Dora. Eating pancakes.”
Raphael stood by the window.
Clara looked at the monitor, the IV, the private room.
“No.”
He turned.
“I can’t pay for this.”
“Nobody asked you to.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand you collapsed.”
“I have rent.”
“You also have a heart condition that needs treatment.”
“Then send me to the clinic.”
“The cardiologist will explain your options.”
She pulled at the blanket.
“I need my clothes.”
Raphael stayed where he was.
“Clara.”
She hated the gentleness in his voice.
Anger would have been easier.
“Please don’t make this into something I owe you.”
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he pulled a chair closer, stopping well outside her reach.
“You don’t owe me.”
“People always say that first.”
He looked down at his hands.
“All right. Then we put it in writing. Medical expenses covered. No repayment. No requirement to keep working for me.”
She stared.
“Your own lawyer can read it.”
“I don’t have a lawyer.”
“We’ll find one you choose.”
That was the first thing he offered that didn’t sound like a trap.
Later, a cardiologist explained that Clara had a structural problem affecting her heart, made worse by years without follow-up care.
There was treatment.
There might be surgery.
There needed to be rest.
Clara laughed once.
It came out wrong.
“Rest costs more than medicine.”
When the doctor left, Raphael set the threatening photograph on her blanket.
Dora had found it beside Clara’s bag.
His face was still.
Too still.
“Did Brennan send this?”
Clara looked away.
“Your daughter is safe,” he said. “Milo checked the house. Dora hasn’t left her.”
“You can’t promise safe.”
“No. But I can tell you what I’m doing.”
That answer made her look at him.
She told him about the sedan.
The envelope.
Her father’s death.
Not everything.
Enough.
Raphael listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he asked one question.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She swallowed.
“I heard him say he was going to be your father-in-law.”
Raphael looked toward the window.
In the dark glass, she watched his reflection change.
His phone rang.
Evelyn.
He let it ring.
Then a message appeared.
May you like
Clara saw it before he turned the screen.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT YOUR MAID.
