Chapter 4My Husband Chose My Murderer

That afternoon, Macy burst into my office at the university. She looked like she’d been through a thresher—bruises on her arms, hair disheveled.

She collapsed onto her knees in front of my desk. “Hannah, please! Please let me go!”

Before I could breathe, a man stormed in after her. My stomach dropped. It was Greg Scott—a guy from Macy’s hometown, a known lowlife who had stalked her years ago. I’d paid for her legal fees to get a restraining order against him back in the day. How was he here?

Robert followed right behind him.

Macy scrambled into Robert’s arms, sobbing hysterically. “Robert, save me! Hannah… she told Greg where I was! She’s trying to sell me to him! He’s a monster!”

Macy’s lip was bleeding. Her shirt was torn at the collar. She looked like a victim.

Robert’s face turned a terrifying shade of purple. He glared at me and then at Greg.

Greg, playing his part perfectly, looked at me with a sleazy grin. “Thanks for the tip, Mrs. Matt. And for the cash. I’ll take her off your hands now.”

“What are you talking about?” I stood up, my heart hammering.

Greg didn't answer. He lunged for Macy. “Your grandpa sold you to my family years ago, girl! We let you finish school, but it’s time to come home and start having babies!”

He grabbed her arm. Robert didn't hesitate. He threw a haymaker that caught Greg right in the temple.

Greg hit the floor, scrambled up, and ran out of the office, howling in pain.

It was a farce. A cheap, poorly acted play. But Robert was fully immersed.

He turned on me, his eyes glowing with a dark, predatory light. He pinned me against my desk, his fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Get on your knees,” he rasped. “Apologize to her. Now.”

The pain in my arms was excruciating. “They’re lying, Robert! Use your brain! Why would I ever contact that man?”

His grip tightened. He looked like he was on the verge of snapping. But then Macy began to slap herself across the face.

“It’s my fault!” she wailed. “I thought you loved me like a sister, Hannah! Why do you keep trying to destroy me? Do you want me to just die?”

“THEN DIE!” I screamed, the frustration finally boiling over.

Robert threw me to the ground. He looked at me with utter loathing. “I am so done with you, Hannah. You want to play hardball? Fine.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. My blood ran cold.

“What are you doing?”

“Is this Director Sterling at the hospital? Yeah. Pull the ventilator in Room 436. Now.”

“NO!” I scrambled toward him, clawing at his legs. “Robert, please! You’ll kill her! Don’t do this!”

He kicked my hand away, his voice devoid of any humanity. “Kneel. Apologize to Macy. Maybe I’ll call them back.”

My brain felt like it was being split by a chisel. The world blurred. I stood up, a ghost in my own body, and walked over to Macy.

She looked up at me, a tiny, sickening smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

I dropped to my knees. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, each word tasting like ash. “It’s all my fault.”

Macy reached out, pretending to be the bigger person, and pulled me into a hug.

“I forgive you, Hannah,” she whispered into my ear, her voice a venomous hiss. “But you should probably get to the hospital. If you run, you might catch her before the lights go out.”

I shoved her away. She fell back with a cry of "pain," but I was already out the door.

“Hannah! Running won’t save you!” Robert yelled after me.

I drove like a maniac, my vision tunneled. I reached the hospital ten minutes later, drenched in sweat.

As I reached the hallway of the intensive care unit, the doors to Room 436 opened. A nurse was slowly wheeling out a gurney covered in a white sheet.

The world went black. I stumbled forward, my legs giving out. I reached out and pulled back the sheet.

A scream ripped from my throat, raw and jagged, echoing through the sterile halls.

“MAMA!”

At that exact moment, across town, Robert’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at his phone, a strange sense of dread pooling in his stomach. Before he could call Hannah, he got a call from the hospital director.

“Mr. Matt? I’m calling about Hannah’s mother. The body is being moved. Do you have instructions for the morgue?”

The world tilted. Robert’s breath hitched. But I never actually got through to the director earlier… the call hadn't connected.

How was she dead?