But then, a thought struck her. The hospital. Lillian had died under suspicious circumstances, and there had to be records—nurse logs, test results, anything that might indicate foul play. If Camilla had orchestrated her death, she couldn't have done it alone. Someone at the hospital must have helped her. And if that was the case, then maybe, just maybe, Jillian could find the person who knew the truth.
Determined, she pulled on a coat and slipped out of the house. The estate was too quiet, almost suffocating. Camilla had won over the staff so thoroughly that Jillian felt like an intruder in her own home. She didn't bother telling anyone where she was going. If her father found out, he would only stop her, insisting that she let go of the past and accept Camilla's presence in their lives.
As she arrived at Orwell First Hospital, the place where her mother had taken her last breath, a chill ran down her spine. The halls were eerily quiet, and the scent of antiseptic filled the air. Jillian knew she couldn't just walk in and demand records—she needed a way to get access without drawing attention to herself. But before she could come up with a plan, she noticed a familiar figure walking toward the exit. A nurse. One who had been present on the night her mother died.
Jillian's heart pounded. This was it. The first lead she had in weeks. If she could get this nurse to talk, maybe she could finally unravel the truth behind Camilla's schemes. But just as she was about to step forward, the nurse turned sharply, as if sensing she was being watched. Her expression twisted in something close to fear, and before Jillian could call out to her, she hurried toward the exit, disappearing into the night.
Something was wrong. That nurse was hiding something. And Jillian was going to find out what it was—no matter what it took.
Jillian's pulse quickened as she watched the nurse disappear into the night. There was no doubt in her mind—this woman knew something. But the way she had looked over her shoulder, the fear in her eyes—it was as if she was terrified of being caught.
Jillian rushed to the front desk, keeping her voice steady as she asked, "Excuse me, can you tell me the name of the nurse who just left?"
The receptionist barely glanced at her. "Sorry, we can't give out staff details."
Frustration boiled in Jillian's chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. If she pushed too hard, they would get suspicious. She needed to find another way. She needed to follow that nurse.
Stepping back outside, Jillian scanned the dimly lit parking lot. A figure moved quickly toward a small car parked near the edge. It was her. Without thinking, Jillian picked up her pace, trailing the nurse from a safe distance. The woman got into her car, hesitated for a moment, then started the engine.
Jillian had to make a choice. Either she let her go and risk losing this lead forever, or she confronted her now.
Her instincts screamed at her. Now.
She hurried forward, knocking on the car window before the nurse could pull away. The woman flinched, her eyes widening as she recognized Jillian. For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Jillian saw something shift in the nurse's gaze—a silent battle between fear and guilt.
"You know something," Jillian said, her voice firm but desperate. "You were there the night my mother died. Please, tell me what happened."
The nurse hesitated, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel. "I—I can't," she whispered.
Jillian's heart clenched. "Why? Because of Camilla?"
The woman's breath hitched at the name. That was it. That was the reaction Jillian was looking for.
"Please," Jillian pressed. "I just need to know the truth."
The nurse swallowed hard, glancing around as if making sure no one was watching. Then, with a trembling hand, she reached into her bag and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
"I found this," she whispered, pressing it into Jillian's palm. "It's the only thing I could save. But be careful… if she knows you have it, she won't stop until she gets it back."
Before Jillian could ask anything else, the nurse shifted her car into gear and sped off, leaving Jillian standing alone in the parking lot, her fingers clutching the paper like it was her only lifeline.
Slowly, she unfolded it.
Her breath caught in her throat. It was a medical report—her mother's final test results. But something was wrong.
One word stood out, written in shaky, desperate handwriting across the bottom of the page.
["FORGED."]
Jillian's entire body went cold. The official report was fake. Camilla had tampered with her mother's records.
Her mother's death hadn't been natural. It had been planned.
A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she staggered back, pressing a hand against her forehead as her vision blurred. How could this be real? How deep did this deception go? Her father had trusted the medical reports. He had believed the doctors when they told him that nothing could have been done to save Lillian. But now Jillian knew the truth. Someone had altered the records. Someone had made sure that her mother would die.
A surge of anger unlike anything she had ever felt before tore through her. Camilla. It had to be her. The way she had wormed her way into their family, her fake grief, her sudden rise to power—it had all been orchestrated. Every single moment since her mother fell ill had been carefully planned. Jillian's hands clenched into fists around the paper, crumpling it as rage burned through her veins.
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn't help her now. Grief had already stolen too much from her. This wasn't a time for mourning. This was a time for war.
She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. She had to think. She had to act smart. If Camilla had been capable of forging a medical report, she was capable of far worse. Jillian knew she had to be careful. If Camilla found out she had this proof, she wouldn't hesitate to silence her.
Her fingers tightened around the paper, determination replacing the initial shock. No more running. No more being ignored. She had the truth now, and no matter what it took, she was going to make sure Camilla paid for what she had done.
Little did Jillian know, her war was over before it even began.
As she stood there, gripping the forged document with newfound determination, a shadow moved in the distance. She was so consumed by her emotions that she didn't notice. She didn't see the eyes watching her.
By the time she made it back home, slipping into her room and locking the door, she thought she had the upper hand. She thought she had finally uncovered the truth, that this single piece of paper was the weapon she needed to take down Camilla.
But the evidence was already slipping from her grasp.