Chapter 7 - The Sister’s Vow
Forty-eight hours after Eleanor's bail was denied, the Vance estate felt like a mausoleum. The police had finally removed their crime scene tape, leaving the cavernous mansion eerily quiet.
Liam and I returned to pack our belongings. We had already signed a lease on a secure, sunlit townhouse twenty miles away in an upscale, quiet neighborhood near the hospital. Neither of us could stomach spending another night under Eleanor’s cursed roof.
As we were packing the nursery supplies we had bought months prior, the front door chimed.
Liam opened it to find a private medical transport team rolling Madison into the foyer in a wheelchair. She looked frail, wrapped in an oversized knit sweater, but the haunted, dazed look in her eyes had been replaced by a cold, hardened resolve. Standing behind her, holding her bags, was a tall, broad-shouldered young man with grease-stained knuckles and fierce, protective brown eyes.
Marcus Kane.
Liam stiffened, his instincts flaring. "Marcus?"
"Liam, don't," Madison said softly, raising a trembling hand. "Marcus came to the hospital the second he saw the news. He never took Mom's money. Mom forged his signature on a wire transfer to frame him as a mercenary. He’s here for me."
Marcus looked Liam dead in the eye, nodding solemnly. "I love your sister, Liam. I didn't care about Eleanor's threats, and I sure as hell didn't care about her money. I’m here to take Madison to my family’s house in Vermont so she can heal."
Liam let out a long, ragged breath, looked at Marcus, and extended his hand. Marcus gripped it firmly. The old prejudices Eleanor had drilled into Liam’s head for decades dissolved in that single handshake.
"Take care of her," Liam said, his voice cracking. "Please."
Madison wheeled herself forward into the spacious living room, stopping in front of me. She looked at my belly, her eyes brimming with fresh tears, but there was no malice in them—only a deep, shared sorrow.
"Clara," Madison whispered.
I knelt down so we were eye-to-eye. "Madison."
"I hated you when you first married Liam," Madison confessed, her voice shaking. "Mom poisoned my mind just like she poisoned that broth. She made me believe you were a gold digger who wanted to steal what was ours. She turned me into a spoiled, blind monster."
"Eleanor was a master manipulator, Madison. You were her victim too," I replied gently.
Madison reached out, her fingers trembling as she placed her palm against my stomach. At that exact second, our baby kicked, pressing firmly against Madison's palm.
A choked sob escaped Madison’s lips, and a small, tragic smile touched her face. "A strong kick. A fighter. Just like his mother."
She looked into my eyes, her expression turning fierce. "The prosecutors came by my hospital room this morning. They wanted to know if I would testify against Mom. Her lawyers sent an intermediary offering me five million dollars from her personal offshore account if I invoked spousal or family privilege and refused to take the stand."
"What did you tell them?" Liam asked, leaning against the archway.
Madison pulled a folded document from her sweater pocket and handed it to me. It was a formal victim impact deposition, signed in ink and notarized by the hospital administration.
"I signed the statement," Madison said, her jaw clenching with absolute finality. "I’m going to testify against her. I’m going to stand on that witness stand and tell the judge and jury that Eleanor Vance knowingly poisoned the food in our home, that she murdered my child, and that she attempted to murder Clara’s. I will make sure she spends the rest of her miserable life behind bars."
I grasped Madison’s cold hands in mine. "You're stronger than Eleanor ever gave you credit for."
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"I’m Arthur Vance’s daughter," Madison said, wiping away a stray tear. "And for the first time in my life, I’m going to act like it."
***
