I felt my hands slip and the world went dark — but what the police found on Eleanor's phone explained everything.

I woke up to the steady beep of a heart monitor.

White ceiling. Bright lights. The antiseptic smell of a hospital.

I tried to move, and pain shot through my entire body. I gasped, my eyes squeezing shut.

"Claire."

Ethan's hand was on mine instantly. Warm. Familiar.

I opened my eyes. He was sitting in the chair beside my bed, his shirt wrinkled, his face streaked with exhaustion. How long had he been there?

"Ethan," I croaked. My throat felt like sandpaper.

"Don't try to talk yet," he said, reaching for the water pitcher. He helped me sip through a straw. "The doctor said you bruised a rib. And you have a concussion. You're lucky it wasn't worse."

Lucky. I almost died. That was lucky?

"Eleanor," I whispered. The name tasted bitter. "She pushed me. Ethan, she meant it. She wanted to kill me."

Ethan's jaw tightened. I saw the anger flash in his eyes, hot and dangerous.

"I know," he said. "I saw. The police took her statement. But she's saying you tripped. That you lost your balance and she tried to grab you."

My blood ran cold. "That's a lie."

"I know," Ethan said again. "But there were dozens of people there. Most were too far away to be sure. Only a few were close enough. And they're all on Eleanor's side. Or too afraid of her to tell the truth."

Of course they were. Eleanor was the perfect daughter-in-law. The one who'd stayed. The one who'd managed the family fortune while I was gone. I was the black sheep. The prodigal daughter who'd returned uninvited.

"Mother," I said, panic rising. "Did she see? Is she here?"

Ethan's hesitation told me everything.

"She's... she's not well enough to come, Claire. The doctor said the excitement of the party was too much. She's resting at home."

"She doesn't know?"

"Your brother told her you had an accident. That you slipped."

I closed my eyes. Of course he did. James always took Eleanor's side. Always. Even when she accused me of embezzling from the family company three years ago. Even when the evidence had clearly been planted. James had chosen his wife over his own sister.

"I need to see her," I said, trying to sit up. The pain flared, and I fell back against the pillows.

"Not yet," Ethan said, gently pushing my shoulder. "You need to rest. The police want to talk to you later today. And I need to tell you something else."

His voice had changed. There was something heavy in it. Something he didn't want to say.

"What?" I asked, dread coiling in my stomach.

Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. It was addressed to me in Mother's handwriting.

"This arrived this morning. Special delivery. The butler brought it."

I took it with shaking hands. The seal was already broken.

"You opened it?"

"I was worried. With everything that happened... I'm sorry."

I shook my head. It didn't matter. I pulled out the letter.

My heart sank as I read.

It wasn't a letter begging me to come home.

It was a will.

Mother had changed it. Everything—the house, the company, the entire family fortune—was left to me.

All of it.

Not James. Not Eleanor.

Me.

"When was this dated?" I whispered.

"Two days before the party," Ethan said quietly. "The same day you received the letter asking you to come."

I looked up at him, the pieces clicking into place with terrifying clarity.

"Eleanor knew," I said. "She knew about the will. That's why she was so angry. That's why she pushed me. If I was dead, everything would go to James. To her."

Ethan nodded slowly. "I think so. And Claire... if she was willing to push you down a staircase in front of fifty people..."

He didn't need to finish.