Chapter 9 - Waking Up to Reality
In a secure, private room at the county hospital, Clara woke up to the steady beep of a heart monitor.
Her arms instinctively tightened around the small plastic bassinet parked beside her hospital bed.
Her baby girl was sleeping peacefully, breathing on her own without a single complication from the smoke or shock.
Martha sat quietly in the corner chair, sipping a styrofoam cup of black coffee.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” Martha asked softly, standing up to adjust Clara’s pillows.
“I’m angry,” Clara whispered, her voice steady and cold. “They think they won.”
“They won a battle, Clara, but they haven't won the war,” Martha replied, pulling a crumpled newspaper clipping from her pocket.
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The headline blared across the front page: “Tragic Fire Claims Life of Pregnant Socialite at Ashford Estate.”
“Let them think I'm dead,” Clara said, her eyes flashing with dangerous determination. “It gives us the ultimate advantage.”
