Torn Apart

Rachael's heart skipped a beat as she stared at the figure standing at the foot of her hospital bed.

"You came," she whispered.

David stood there, his expression unreadable. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his dark jacket, his stance rigid, as if he was holding himself back.

"Of course I did," he finally said, stepping closer. His voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual confidence.

"You scared the hell out of me, Rachael."

She blinked at him, still disoriented from the fall, from the emotional wreckage of the past few days. The hospital room felt too bright, the sterile air thick with tension. Harriet and Adam stood behind David, watching the exchange carefully.

"How long was I out?" Rachael asked, her voice hoarse.

"A little over a day," Harriet answered, her face still pale with worry.

"You hit your head hard. The doctors said you were lucky. It could have been much worse."

Rachael swallowed, attempting to sit up, but dizziness washed over her. David immediately reached for her, his strong hands steadying her shoulders.

"Easy," he murmured, his touch lingering for just a second longer before he pulled away.

"You don't have to prove anything right now."

Harriet and Adam exchanged glances, sensing the tension crackling in the air. Adam cleared his throat.

"We'll give you two a moment." He nudged Harriet, and they both slipped out, shutting the door behind them.

The silence left behind was suffocating.

Rachael swallowed hard, pushing herself up against the pillows.

"What are you doing here? I thought you hated me."

David sighed, running a hand over his face.

"I had to make sure you were okay."

Her voice sharpened.

"You disappeared, David. I called you. You ignored me. Now, after everything, you just show up?"

"I wasn't ignoring you, Rachael. There were things I had to handle. Things you don't understand."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Oh, I don't understand? Right?"

"You think I don't know what it feels like to be abandoned?" David's voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a rush of emotion.

"To be humiliated?" "To feel like a fool in front of everyone?" His eyes blazed with a mix of pain and anger, the tension in his body palpable.

His gaze flickered with something unreadable.

"Now's not the time for this conversation. You need to rest. I'll be on my way soon."

She reached for his arm.

"David, please don't go. I know you're angry with me. I can feel it. But please, let's go back to the way things were. I'm so sorry."

David inhaled sharply, his expression hardening.

"No, you're not." His voice was cold. Rachael flinched.

David exhaled, shaking his head.

"Don't say you're sorry, Rachael. You and I both know that if Simon hadn't been exposed, you wouldn't be saying this right now. And guess what? I'm not about to be used as a replacement just because you're disappointed in him."

Before she could respond, the door burst open.

Harriet and Adam walked in, their expressions tense.

"What's going on?" Harriet demanded.

"Nothing," David said abruptly, his voice sharp. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Rachael feeling colder than she had before.

Harriet sat beside her as tears welled in Rachael's eyes. A faint, broken sob slipped past her lips.

"Rachael, let's focus on you getting better first," Harriet said gently.

"She's right," Adam added, his voice firm.

"Crying isn't good for your condition."

Rachael nodded weakly, wiping at her eyes as her shoulders trembled. But the ache in her chest refused to fade.

Later that evening, Rachael was discharged from the hospital. As they headed home, the media swarmed outside their house.

As soon as Rachael stepped out of the car, she was engulfed in a frenzy of flashing cameras and a cacophony of shouted questions. Reporters swarmed around her, their microphones and cameras thrust forward like a barrage of weapons. The bright lights and deafening noise were disorienting, making her head spin.

The chaos was intense, with reporters clamoring for her attention, each one trying to outshout the others.

"Miss Rachael, what do you have to say about Simon?"

"Did you know about his fraud?"

"Is it true you were involved?"

The questions were relentless.

Kate, who had been waiting for her, rushed forward and grabbed her arm, shielding her from the crowd.

"Back off!" she barked.

"She has nothing to say!"

With Kate's help, Rachael managed to slip inside the house, her heart racing wildly. She slumped onto the couch, exhausted.

"I'm glad you're back," Kate said, plopping down beside her.

Rachael offered a small, tired smile. "Me too."

"You need to eat something," Kate insisted.

"Let me make you something."

As Kate headed to the kitchen, Rachael picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The moment she did, her own face filled the screen.

"Rachael George, the daughter of a known criminal, linked to another fraudster. What do we really know about her?"

Her stomach twisted. Unbothered, she switched the channel.

"This world won't stop talking about me," she muttered under her breath.

Just then, her mother walked in.

"Rachael, you're here."

Rachael sat up. "Mom, sit down. I need to know the truth about Simon and his Dad."

Her mother hesitated but sighed, sitting beside her.

"Sweetheart, there are a lot of things about your father that I don't even know. I thought he and Lodges were just wine business partners. I had no idea it was more than that."

"The FBI has been watching them for years," she continued.

"Apparently, Lodge and your father were on the FBI's watchlist all along," Kate said, her voice low and serious.

Rachael rubbed her temples, overwhelmed.

"This is insane. I don't understand anything anymore."

Her mother placed a gentle hand on hers.

"Don't think too much about it now, darling. Just rest, okay?" She pressed a soft kiss to Rachael's forehead. "Goodnight."

Rachael barely nodded as her mother walked away. She sank deeper into the couch, her mind reeling.

A voice suddenly broke through her thoughts.

"I know Simon."

Rachael's head snapped up.

Kate stood by the dining room table, her expression serious.

"You know Simon?" Rachael whispered.

Kate glanced around to make sure no one was listening.

"Come with me," she said, motioning toward the dining room.

"You should eat while I tell you everything."

Rachael followed, her stomach knotting. As they sat down, Kate's voice lowered.

"Simon and Richard were friends. Even Andrew. But Simon is the big guy. Richard looks up to him. Sometimes, Richard worked for him and his father."

Rachael's breath caught.

"Wait." Her mind raced back to the day Simon saw her by the river and acted like he didn't know her. 

"He knew me all along, didn't he?"

Kate nodded grimly.

"Simon is also a swindler, Rachael. A con artist. I was the informant. I tipped them off about his trip to Greendale."

Rachael's blood ran cold.

"You?"

"I had to," Kate said, her expression unreadable.

"Simon's a predator. His targets are rich girls. He showers them with gifts, gets them hooked, and then starts demanding more. If they resist, he blackmails them."

"How did you even know the FBI was looking for him?"

"My brother works with them," Kate admitted.

"That's how I found out everything."

Rachael's eyes widened,

"But why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice laced with a mix of emotions.

Kate's expression softened.

"I didn't need to tell you, Rachael. I knew you were smarter than that. And he wouldn't have been able to swindle you like he did the other ladies."

And the Lodges? They're dangerous people. Trust me, you dodged a bullet."

A sick feeling settled in Rachael's stomach.

Kate smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. 

"Hey, I want to take you out sometime. There's this club Richard and I go to. You need to get out, see the world again."

"A club?" Rachael raised a brow. "Wow… Just give me some time to think about it."

Kate chuckled. "Deal."

As she picked at her food, Rachael's mind swirled with unanswered questions.

Kate's voice cut through the stillness, her tone gentle but firm.

"Eat your food, Rachael," Kate said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "I'll go check on the twins."

Rachael dropped her fork, her appetite gone. But before she could process it all, movement outside the window caught her eye.

Two figures were standing near the house, arguing.

Her breath hitched as she recognized them.

Martha. And Uncle Adam. Rachael rose slowly from her seat, her fingers tightening around the edge of the dining table.

 A fresh wave of tension crashed over her. She moved toward the window, trying to hear them. Their voices were hushed, but their body language was loud. Adam's stance was rigid, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Martha, on the other hand, looked frantic, her arms moving wildly as she spoke.

What are they arguing about?

Without thinking, Rachael pushed the door open and stepped outside. The moment Martha saw her, she stiffened. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met. Then, without a word, Martha turned on her heel and bolted.

Rachael's heart slammed against her ribs.

"Martha!" she shouted, taking a step forward.

"I know it's you! Stop!"

But Martha didn't stop. She didn't even glance back. She just kept running, disappearing into the darkness.

Rachael stood frozen for a moment then, slowly, she turned to face Adam.

His expression was a flicker of guilt and embarrassment.

"What's going on?" Her voice was sharp, demanding.

"Is this still about the properties?"

Adam didn't answer right away. She took a step closer, her pulse roaring in her ears. 

"Uncle Adam," she pressed. "Say something."

A long, tense silence stretched between them.

"This is none of your business, Rachael," he said finally, his voice edged with irritation.

"Stay out of this."

Before she could push further, Adam turned and walked into the house.