She paused.

“We believe he made sure you couldn’t call for help before he walked out the door.”

And at that exact moment, my phone lit up on the bedside table.

A blocked number.

One new message.

Nathan picked it up before I could.

His face changed as he read it aloud.

You should have stayed dead.

PART 3 — The Message From a Dead Man’s Wife

For one breathless moment, no one moved.

The hospital room seemed to close in around that message until the walls felt near enough to touch. The monitors beside my bed continued beeping, steady and uncaring, while Nathan stood frozen with my phone in his hand.

You should have stayed dead.

Four words.

Four words that tore away every excuse Ryan had ever used to hide behind.

My brother’s face had turned white with rage. Daniel stood close to the door, his shoulders stiff, his eyes locked on the phone as though he could rip the sender apart by staring hard enough.

Detective Bennett was the only person who stayed calm.

But her calm had changed.

It was no longer professional distance.

It was concentration.

“Do not delete that,” she said.

Nathan handed her the phone with care.

“Kun je het traceren?” vroeg hij.

“We zullen het proberen.” Haar stem was laag. “Geblokkeerde nummers zijn zelden zo anoniem als mensen denken.”

Ik keek naar Ethan die naast me sliep. Zijn kleine mondje bewoog in een droom, zijn kleine vuisten onder zijn kin. Hij was zo klein, zo onschuldig, gewikkeld in ziekenhuiskatoen terwijl volwassenen om hem heen fluisterden over kalmeringsmiddelen, erfenis, verraad en de dood.

Iets diep vanbinnen werd hard.

Ryan had me niet alleen in de steek gelaten.

Hij had de eerste dagen van mijn zoon in leven als bewijs omgezet.

Rechercheur Bennett keek me aan. “Emma, ik moet je iets ongemakkelijks vragen.”