My heart pounded so hard my vision blurred.
That night I waited until Daniel fell asleep. When his breathing finally settled, I slipped out of bed, carried my laptop into the kitchen, and sat at the table in the dark.
My hands trembled as I plugged in the flash drive.
One file appeared. A long string of numbers for a name.
I clicked it.
The first thing that struck me was the timestamp in the corner.
It was the day Grace died.
The first angle showed the ICU hallway.
I saw myself on the screen—pacing, crying, begging. Kara’s arm stretched across the doorway, blocking me. I watched myself reach for the handle only to be stopped.
Then the video switched to inside Grace’s room.
Grace was awake. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes unfocused, the red allergy band bright against her small wrist.
Nurse Hannah stood beside the bed adjusting the IV. She kept glancing toward the door as if expecting someone to support her.
