Chapter 63 Annabelle
Annabelle
It had been a week, and Scarlett was still in a coma.
Dr. Matthias had taken over. It killed Annabelle to see her baby lying there so still, with a tube down her throat.
She was improving, but the doctor wanted to give her more time.
Annabelle hadn’t left her side, spending the nights in a recliner by her bed.
James walked into the room with two cups of coffee. He came every morning before work.
“Any updates?” he asked.
“Doctor Matthias will be by after nine. He said he hopes they can lighten the sedation soon.”
“You look exhausted. Why don’t you let me come and stay tonight? You should go home and get a good night’s sleep.”
“No. There’s no such thing as a good night’s sleep until she’s awake, and I know she’s okay.
” Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath.
This unending nightmare was taking a huge toll, but there was no way she would step foot outside the hospital until it was time to take Scarlett home.
Ironically, her sleep had been dreamless all week. She was losing hope.
“You won’t do her any good if you get so run-down that you get sick. Just one—”
“Stop it, James. I’m not leaving, and that’s final! Maybe if you hadn’t tried to make me think I was crazy with those dreams, this could have been prevented. Something was warning me that Scarlett was in trouble, but you chalked it up to anxiety. So stop telling me what to do and what to think.”
He was momentarily speechless. “You’re blaming me for this?”
She threw her hands up. “No, no, of course not. I’m just saying, stop micromanaging me.
I feel like you’re always hovering and lecturing.
Our daughter has been reaching out to a stranger because we weren’t paying attention.
I just want you to leave me alone right now.
” She had read through all the texts over and over, looking for any clue as to who this Ben might be.
It was clear to her how cleverly he had found out where Scarlett went to school and where she lived.
She had no idea what the texts about her and James hiding something meant.
The detectives said they could tell that some of the texts had been deleted and were working on recovering them.
The man must have manufactured some sort of lies about them.
Annabelle was so upset with herself for not monitoring Scarlett’s phone—for foolishly elevating her privacy over her safety.
“There’s obviously a lot going on right now. This is clearly not a good time for a discussion.” James handed her one of the cups. “Here. I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”
Annabelle couldn’t bring herself to respond and merely stood watching as he walked away.
Was she blaming him? A little. But she was also blaming herself.
When did she stop listening to her own instincts and allow James to run her life?
She was a smart, capable woman, yet she kowtowed to him in too many ways.
Scarlett had been acting so distant, angry even, and Annabelle had ignored it.
She’d told herself that it was normal teenage sullenness, when it had been a cry for help.
All those questions Scarlett had asked her about true love and love at first sight—she should have read between the lines and realized that Scarlett was asking for a more personal reason.
Instead, she’d let some predator into her life, who’d then almost killed her.
Annabelle needed answers. What was she supposed to do next?
Her phone pinged: a message from Chase, asking how Scarlett was. He’d been so supportive, checking in every day, even arranging to have lunch sent to her on a couple days, with a note telling her she needed a break from hospital food.
The police hadn’t been able to find the owner of the Instagram account.
It had been deactivated and had been set up using an untraceable Gmail account.
They were waiting on a warrant to get information from Instagram about the IP address of the deactivated account.
They had questioned Avery at length, but she didn’t have any other helpful information.
The poor girl felt guilty for keeping the information to herself, but Annabelle didn’t blame her.
That’s what best friends did. She’d certainly kept her own share of secrets over the years.
This mystery man was out there somewhere.
What if he tried to come to the hospital and hurt Scarlett?
The police didn’t think that was likely and wouldn’t agree to station anyone outside her room.
But it was another reason that Annabelle wouldn’t leave.
She didn’t trust anyone else to keep her daughter safe.
Scarlett uttered a soft noise, and Annabelle jumped up and stood next to the bed.
“Sweetie, can you hear me? It’s Mom. I’m right here.”
She took Scarlett’s hand in hers. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you.” She tried to make her voice sound confident, but in her heart, she didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.