GLASS: A Standalone Novel

by Arianne Richmonde

  “Stay calm, Janie. Like I said, he’s under observation. One of our doctors is sticking around until he’s awake. And his mom is here from Switzerland. She’s given the green light for him to be transferred. To a hospital in LA, when he comes to . . . whenever he’s ready.”

  “But meanwhile that lunatic is hovering around! She could do anything! Why is your team of doctors on her fucking side? I thought that was the whole point! That you could move mountains, that you could make Kristin Jürgen fucking disappear!”

  Elodie was silent. “I agree, I thought they’d be more active . . . more, as you say, ‘on our side.’ After all, my mom’s paying them enough. Shaking off this doctor-sticking-up-for-other-doctor bullshit is more complicated than we thought. They simply refuse to cast any malpractice blame on their colleague Kristin.

  “And what about the chimps? Isn’t that proof enough she’s a monster?”

  “No proof.”

  “WHAT?”

  “We have clandestine proof, we know the lab was hers, but technically, legally—and hey, legally, by the way, we have no leg to stand on because we were breaking into someone else’s property without a warrant—Kristin’s in the clear. No rent, no ownership, nothing states that the premises are hers.”

  “What about Remy? We can prove she was paying him to abduct me, and where he took me. Right next door to her freaking lab!”

  “That’s another problem. Remy’s gone MIA. He’s not picking up his phone. Not at his apartment. Nobody’s seen him.”

  “How do you know his phone number? He never gave it to you.” As I said this, I remembered what Elodie’s day job was, not to mention the moonlighting. “Crap,” I said, “he’s missing, really?”

  “Not looking good.”

  “Oh my God, I pray he’s okay.” I was hoping that Remy had hit a bar somewhere, and was simply conked out on someone’s couch for the night. My mind wandered to Kristin’s other illegal wrongdoings. “What about Natasha’s will? You got any news on that? The forgery handwriting experts?”

  “Kristin’s been given the all clear on that, too. They say the will is genuine.”

  “Really? And these are experts you trust?”

  “They’re supposedly the best.”

  “Damn, this woman’s clever.”

  “That’s what Alessandra says. She still refuses to believe Kristin’s innocent.”

  “And your mom? What does she think?”

  “There are some jealousy issues going on. She’s accusing Alessandra of having been Natasha’s girlfriend and still being in love with her.”

  “But Natasha’s dead! How can she be jealous of a dead woman?” I realized she wasn’t the only one jealous of Natasha . . . I’d nursed my fair share of that green-eyed disease also.

  “Yup, I know. That’s my mom for you. This information’s between you and me, by the way, Janie.”

  “My lips are sealed.” I had visions of two unquenchable flames in a raging lesbian bonfire: hot-bloodied Italian actress Alessandra, and poison dart-eyed Sophie. Plates flying around the room? Smashed furniture? Scary . . .

  Elodie exhaled a pent-up breath that spoke of exhaustion and exasperation. “Look, I need to get off the line and locate Remy.”

  “Good luck, I so hope you find him. Look, my friend Star’s here and is keen to help, but I have to get going to the hospital.”

  “I know Star. I’ve got her number. I’ll call. Well, good luck to you, too, at the hospital. By the way . . . a warning, just so you know . . . ”

  Scalding adrenaline pumped like liquid molten into my heart. “What?”

  “Daniel’s mom? She really likes Kristin. Adored Natasha apparently.”

  “Didn’t she know that Natasha was in love with another man? That her marriage to Daniel was a joke?”

  “Nope. His mom thinks that she was the perfect wife for Daniel.”

  “So basically, in everyone’s eyes—except for ours—Kristin Jürgen and Natasha Jürgen are fucking saints?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “So who’s there right now at the hospital with Daniel?”

  “His mom, Kristin, our doctor, Doctor Nadil, and the usual nurses.”

  “I need to get there immediately.”

  “Janie, be careful. Don’t get yourself kicked out of there. Remember, you are not ‘family,’ and until Daniel wakes up, it’s at their discretion to let you visit.”

  Silence while I took in Elodie’s wake-up-and-smell-the-coffee words. What a mess.

  “Look, Janie, I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

  As I was brushing my teeth, Dad suddenly called, wondering how Daniel was doing. I had to bite my tongue and not let on about the nightmare I was going through. Having him worry about me wouldn’t help the situation.

  “That accident changed Will,” Dad revealed. “But in a good way. It’s almost as if he’s more focused now. He’s applied to do an internship in New York with a stockbroker, or maybe it’s a hedge fund manager—something to do with money, anyway.”

  “Is that a good idea?” I said, knowing that Will had a propensity to become obsessive when he dealt with numbers. I tapped my foot with agitation—right now wasn’t the moment to discuss Will’s future—I couldn’t give it the time or attention it deserved—all I could think about was Daniel.

  “You know what?” Dad went on. “I think it is. It could be a real career for him.”

  I had to hold back my tears. I wanted to burst out crying and tell my father everything. “Dad, I miss you so much.”

  “Me too, honey.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby, is everything okay? You’re still staying at Daniel’s apartment?”

  “Yes,” I choked, swallowing my lie. “It’s all fine . . . I mean, I’m crossing my fingers about Daniel, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about me, Dad, I’ll be fine. I’d better go. Give Will a big hug from me.”

  13

  Daniel.

  “HOW’S THE PATIENT doing?”

  The voice is gruff and low. A man. He’s new, I haven’t heard that voice before.

  “I think he’s on the mend, Dr. Nadil.” Oh fuck, it’s her . . . she’s back.

  I can feel his large hands on my pulse. Steady hands of a man I can trust. Relief at last. But he mumbles something I can’t hear about lowering the dosage . . . his footsteps getting quieter, and then a closing door. Fuck, he’s gone. The room is silent for a beat, and then . . .

  “Honestly, Bettina, there’s no need for Daniel to be transferred to LA. He’s in good hands here. Who better to look after him than family?”

  You fucking psycho!

  “Oh, Kristin, thank God you’ve been here for him.” My mother’s clueless voice. Thanks for gracing me with your presence, Mom.

  “I know. Poor Daniel. He was in bad shape but I did everything I could, and it looks as if he has a fighting chance now.” Butter wouldn’t melt in your fucking mouth, would it, you charlatan . . . how can my mother be such a dimwit?

  “I owe you his life, Kristin, honey. How can I repay you?”

  Get out the checkbook, Mom, that’s what you usually do, isn’t it? Anything to avoid intimacy. Money buying you out of every situation that makes you uneasy.

  “You’re his mom and you trust me. That is payment enough. Being a neurologist is tough. Sometimes—like in Natasha’s tragic case—there’s nothing you can do. It’s heartbreaking. But you know I’ll do anything for Daniel. I love him like a brother. He and Natasha were so in love, so happy together.”

  I try to open my mouth to speak. “Stop with the fucking fantasies!” But no sound leaves my lips. There are two cloying perfumes circling me now, as if battling for which can be the sickliest, the most repugnant to my olfactory sense.

  “Kristin? Kristin? I just saw Daniel twitch, like a grimace—he moved his mouth!”

  “Yes, that’s normal with coma patients, Bettina, dear. It doesn’t mean they’re awake, unfortunately.”

  “I’d
love to stay, my dear, until Daniel wakes up properly, but I’m meant to be at an important fundraiser in Hawaii tomorrow. I simply cannot miss it. Everybody who is anybody will be there. My jet is scheduled to fly out this afternoon. Kristin, would it be considered very unfeeling if I didn’t stay much longer? I mean, he doesn’t even know I’m here, so—”

  “Of course not, Bettina, I’m with him. Oh, by the way, I have a special gift for you. Hang on a second, while I find it in my purse.”

  “A gift? Kristin, really, you shouldn’t have.”

  As I lie here, I’m wondering what is coming next. There’s a catch. Kristin is up to something. Whenever she used to give Natasha a gift, there was an ulterior motive. What’s she after, I wonder? She wants something in return, for sure.

  “It’s antique, Bettina, genuine Art Deco. Open the box.”

  “Oh my Lord! Kristin, this choker is . . . I have no words . . . these pearls are simply beautiful! The colors, the tones . . . and look! A diamond clasp! But it must have cost a fortune.”

  “Bettina, you’re family, no expense spared. Do me a favor, though; wait until you’re back in Switzerland before you wear them. You can never be too careful here in the States.”

  “Of course, my dear, if you think that’s best.”

  “Oh, and one more thing before you rush off, there’s something you can do for Daniel.

  “I can’t stay long, my dear, I—”

  Ah, here it comes . . . the catch, the trade-off.

  “I understand, Bettina, it won’t take long. But as you’re not able to be here, as next of kin, you can give me power of attorney to oversee anything that needs attention. Then you can rest at ease, knowing how Daniel will be under my expert care. I could call my lawyer to set it up, if you like—he’s a close friend of Daniel’s, and is only around the corner. He could come right away.”

  “That’s a splendid idea, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Oh, and . . . another thing, Bettina, there’s this actress that once did a job with Daniel. She’s been stalking him for a couple of years now. He tried everything to keep her away, but she’s delusional. Thinks they’re in love. Sweet kid, but I’m worried she could be dangerous. I’d like you to forbid her to visit. She’s called Janie something-or-other. Dark hair. Big, Bambi-brown eyes. But don’t be fooled.”

  No! I’m groaning. Trapped inside my own mind. I try to sit up, but my brain is a whirl of colors and flashes of light. Not able to make me her husband, Kristin has done the next best thing . . . taking control of me through this fucking power of attorney. I see a bright red truck looming in front of me . . . the visions again. I’m spinning, swirling . . . someone . . . anyone . . . let me out of here before I get run over!

  14

  Janie.

  I RACED TO the hospital, not even bothering to shower or have breakfast. But before I had even gotten to Daniel’s room, I was stopped by a burly male nurse.

  “Are you Janie Cole?” he asked.

  “Yes.” The second I said ‘yes’ I was aware I’d made a grave mistake. Duh.

  “Sorry, no visitors for Mr. Glass, right now.”

  “No visitors, or is it that just me you don’t want visiting?”

  “I’m sorry, the patient is in no condition to see anyone, he’s—”

  “Has he awoken from his coma?”

  “I’m not at liberty to divulge—”

  “Please!” I yelled. “Can’t you just give me that? Tell me he’s okay?” My eyes were brimming with tears, heat rushing to my face in a flaring rage.

  “Yes,” the nurse conceded, his expression a little kinder now, although he stepped his large frame into my personal space, so I was forced to retreat. “He is stable, but Miss, I’m sorry, you cannot enter.” He crossed his hairy arms with deliberation. A human barricade.

  “He’ll want to see me. Ask him. Ask him if he wants to see me! Daniel?” I shouted out. “Daniel, can you hear me in there?”

  The nurse laid his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away from the door. “He’s awake but not aware. I’m afraid Mr. Glass is not in a fit state to make decisions right now. Please leave, Miss, before I call security.”

  I stomped off, my ears hot with fury. I needed to get something to eat, my stomach rumbling with hunger, my head dizzy. I’d been neglectful with my supplements—obviously hadn’t had them at hand while I was locked up, and had stupidly forgotten to take them last night with my meal. I called Elodie, wondering if Kristin had stabbed Daniel with yet another syringe to make him go gaga, or if he really was “unaware,” and just needed time to come to.

  “What’s Sophie’s number?” I asked Elodie, without even saying hello. “I need to get the okay from the neurologist she procured so I can be allowed to visit Daniel.”

  I could hear a long sigh coming down the line. “I’m so sorry, Janie, I was about to call you. Dr. Nadil’s been called away on an emergency. Some senator’s son has been in a car crash and the family has summoned him. He’s a close friend, apparently. He said he felt completely assured that Daniel was okay, and that Dr. Jürgen had behaved in a very professional manner. He refuses to stick around, even though he was offered silly money by my mother to stay.”

  “So this whole thing has been a waste of energy, money, and time?”

  “No, not at all. Daniel’s alive, isn’t he? He’s stable. Things could be so much worse. And all this will be noted in his medical file now, having been overseen by a third party: Dr. Nadil. We just need to find a safe way to get Daniel out of there as soon as possible.”

  I leaned against the wall to steady myself. Every time we seemed to be making progress another jagged obstacle was thrown in our path. I wondered how much more I could take of this. “Where’s your mom?” I spat out, secretly blaming Sophie for all this, although logically I knew it wasn’t her fault; she’d tried her best, she really had.

  “She left for Paris. I’m sorry, Janie, but this whole Natasha Jürgen thing has opened up a can of worms between her and her wife. Maman says she’s done all she can for Daniel. Not that she doesn’t care about him, but her focus was, and still is, on Alessandra and the animals. I feel badly for you, but the ‘rescue mission avenue’ has been exhausted, we can’t rely on my mom for anything more. We need to work out something ourselves. I have money, but I’m not sure what good that will do at this point. The medical world is very cliquey, very protected.”

  “You need to get in to see him, Elodie. They won’t let me, I was barred from entering his room.”

  “Um, not so simple.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mom had a big argument with Dr. Nadil, right in front of Kristin. Kristin got wind of the whole thing, and although she’s all smiles with Dr. Nadil—she has to be because he’s so respected—she doesn’t want me, or anyone connected with us, hanging around. She worked out pretty fast that me and my nurse’s uniform were bogus.”

  “But she doesn’t get to tell everyone what to do! She isn’t Daniel’s wife like she was pretending.”

  “I’m afraid she does.”

  Fear rushed to my veins again—had they discovered she’d married Daniel, after all? “Does what?”

  “Does get to boss everyone around,” Elodie said. “At least till he’s conscious and can make his own decisions. Daniel’s mom Bettina was here yesterday. They drew up papers with a lawyer. Bettina, as next of kin, gave Kristin power of attorney.”

  I felt that familiar, watery feeling in my knees again. I could sense them giving way as I swayed, then tumbled to the floor.

  15

  Daniel.

  I AM SWIMMING up from a deep sleep, higher and higher, my arms pushing the water as I come up to catch my breath. I can see the waves above my head and light from the sky overhead. But it’s out of focus. I try to keep my eyes open, but the pressure on my head is immense. I close them again. There, that’s better.

  “Daniel, don’t flinch, please. I need to attach these electrodes to your head and I can’t
when you move like that! It’s three a.m., and I’ve got you all to myself for a few hours, so please cooperate, why can’t you make this easy for me, goddammit!”

  16

  Janie.

  THE LIGHTS WERE bright, blinding my vision even though my eyes were squeezed shut. I could hear all kinds of different voices surrounding me, helicoptering above me. I tried to open my lids but my weary body wouldn’t allow me. At last I cracked open an eye and recognized the familiar surroundings. I was in a bed. My arm felt pinched and I saw a tube attached. A drip. Starchy white sheets. The smell of disinfectant. I made out a woman in uniform in my peripheral vision, leaning over me: a nurse.

  Then I recalled blacking out earlier, here at the hospital, after I’d tried in vain to see Daniel.

  I took in a long breath through my nose. A scent I recognized from somewhere—where? A sweet, heavy, woman’s perfume.

  And something told me I was done for.

  As good as dead.

  17

  Daniel.

  THE PAIN IS unbearable as if my skull is in a vice being tightened by the second. It’s dark, the lights are off—there are no creaks of light filtering through my closed eyes. But white flashes are inside my brain like exploding stars—the kind of stars you see when you bash your head on something, only a thousand times worse.

  The silence tells me it’s the middle of the night. There is only one person here.

  My torturer: Kristin.

  In my normal life I could have her on the ground in seconds. But what is happening isn’t normal, and it sure as hell isn’t a life. I have never paid much attention to God, never felt I needed Him. But right now I’m screaming for His help. Making deals. If He can just stop this pain, I’ll do anything in return.

  Anything.

  I’m offering up all I can think of that may interest Him. Foundations for charity—not that I haven’t already been generous over the years—but I’ll donate the lot. Hand over my fortune.