The penthouse was too quiet.

Derick pushed the heavy oak door open, the stale taste of scotch coating his tongue. He shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it toward the housekeeper, missing the man's outstretched hands by a foot. He didn't bother to apologize. A smile lingered on his lips-the afterglow of last night's gala, the flash of cameras, the way Kamryn had looked at him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cluster of metallic silver balloons, the ones he had grabbed from the after-party. They bumped against the ceiling as he walked down the hallway.

"Cece?" he called out, his voice light. "Daddy's home. I brought you something."

He stopped outside her bedroom door. It was closed. Unusual. Cece always left it open, the sound of her cartoons drifting into the hall.

He pushed it open.

The bed was made. Pristine. The sheets were tucked tight, the pillows fluffed. The medical equipment-the oxygen tank, the pulse oximeter-was gone. The room smelled of antiseptic and emptiness.

Derick's smile faltered. The balloons drifted down, brushing against his shoulder. He turned and walked toward the living room.

Elinor was sitting on the sofa. She was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, a rumpled blouse and dark slacks. Her hands were clasped in her lap, fingers locked around a silver locket. She looked up as he entered.

There was no expression on her face. Her eyes were flat, glassy, like the surface of a dead lake.

"Where is she?" Derick asked. He tried to keep his tone casual, but a thread of unease wound through his chest. "Where's Cece?"

Elinor stared at him. She looked at him like he was a stranger who had wandered into the wrong apartment.

"Cece is dead," she said.

The words hung in the air, sharp and brutal.

Derick froze. His fingers loosened. One of the balloons slipped from his grip, drifted toward a side table, and struck a brass lamp. The sharp metal prong of the balloon's ribbon caught the surface.

Pop.

The sound was deafening in the silence. Derick flinched. The remaining balloons drooped in his hand.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous low.

"You heard me," Elinor said. Her voice was monotone, devoid of the hysteria he expected.

Derick's mind rejected the words. They were impossible. Absurd. This was Elinor playing one of her games, punishing him for staying out, for taking Kamryn to the gala.

"You're lying," he snarled, taking a step toward her. "Are you playing games again? Just like you did five years ago at the fundraiser? You'll do anything for attention, won't you? You're being ridiculous because I didn't answer your calls."

"I'm not lying," Elinor said. A ghost of a smile touched her lips, a terrible, hollow thing. "She died waiting for her daddy to take her to see Mickey."

Derick lunged. He crossed the room in two strides and grabbed Elinor by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her collarbones. He shook her once, hard.

"Stop it!" he yelled. "This is sick, Elinor. Even for you. Where is she? Did you send her to your mother's?"

Elinor didn't fight him. She didn't cry out. She just let him hold her up, her body limp in his grip.

"I want to see her!" Derick released her with one hand, fumbling for his phone. He scrolled to Dr. Cole's number.

"You can't," Elinor said. "She's been cremated."

Derick stopped. He stared at her, the phone forgotten in his hand. "What?"

"The ashes are right here." Elinor lifted the locket. It swung on its chain, catching the morning light.

Derick stared at the small piece of jewelry. A wave of revulsion and disbelief washed over him. This was too far. Even for Elinor, this was a twisted, manipulative lie.

"You're hiding her," he said, his voice trembling with rage. "You're using her to get back at me. You think this is funny?"

Before Elinor could respond, Derick's phone rang. The screen lit up with a photo of Kamryn, her face bright and smiling.

Derick looked at the phone, then at Elinor. Elinor's expression didn't change. She just sat there, holding the locket, that empty look in her eyes.

He answered the call. "Kamryn?"

"Derick," Kamryn sobbed on the other end. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but Kiana has a terrible fever. She's burning up. I don't know what to do. I need you."

Derick looked down at the balloon in his hand, then at the woman sitting on the sofa. The choice was instantaneous. The reality of a sick child versus the theatrical lie of a bitter wife.

"If you're going to keep up this sick joke," Derick said, shoving the phone into his pocket, "I don't have time for it."

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

"Divorce papers will be sent to your office," Elinor said to his back.

Derick paused, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn around. He wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him, the sound reverberating through the empty apartment.

Elinor sat alone. The silence rushed back in, heavier than before. The numbness that had protected her cracked, and the pain hit her like a tidal wave. She doubled over, a sob tearing from her throat, raw and ugly.

She clutched the locket until the metal edges bit into her palm. She wouldn't break. She couldn't afford to break. Not yet.

She reached for her phone on the coffee table. Her hands shook as she typed into the search bar: Private investigators New York. Medical malpractice.

"I have a legal right to those records."

Elinor leaned over the counter of the hospital administration office, her knuckles white against the laminate surface.

The administrator, a woman with steel-gray hair and a stiff posture, didn't blink. "Mrs. Grant, I've explained this. The HIPAA Privacy Rule prohibits us from releasing patient allocation data to unauthorized individuals. Even to family members of the deceased."

"I am her mother," Elinor said, her voice rising. "And a donor kidney was diverted from my daughter. I want to know who authorized it."

The woman's expression remained impassive. "If you have a legal grievance, you need to submit form 104-B to the compliance department. Security!"

Two large men in dark uniforms stepped forward, positioning themselves behind Elinor. One of them gestured to the door. "Ma'am, it's time to leave."

Elinor wanted to scream. She wanted to reach across the desk and shake the smug compliance off the woman's face. But she knew it was useless. The system was built to keep people like her out.

She turned and walked out into the corridor, her heels clicking against the linoleum. She felt the locket bounce against her chest with every step, a cold reminder of why she was here.

She nearly collided with Dr. Evan Cole.

He was walking quickly, his head down, a tablet clutched to his chest. He looked up, saw her, and froze.

"Dr. Cole," Elinor said, stepping into his path. "Why was Cece's surgery canceled?"

Cole's eyes darted left and right, looking for an escape route. "Mrs. Grant, I am so sorry for your loss. But I can't discuss patient care in the hallway."

"Was it the transplant committee?" Elinor pressed, moving closer. "Did someone else take her kidney?"

Cole's face drained of color. He took a step back, nearly tripping over his own feet. "The committee makes decisions based on medical urgency and compatibility. That's all I can say."

"Did Kamryn Turner take it?" Elinor demanded. "Did she use her connections to jump the line?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cole stammered. He sidestepped her, breaking into a near-jog down the hall.

"Tell me!" Elinor chased after him, but he disappeared through a set of restricted doors, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Elinor stood there, breathing hard, her fists clenched at her sides. The anger was a living thing inside her, clawing to get out. She turned away from the doors and walked toward the main lobby.

She stopped dead.

The lobby was bright, filled with the afternoon sun streaming through the glass walls. In the center seating area, Derick was sitting on a plush sofa. He was holding the hand of a little girl-Kiana. Kamryn was beside him, her body angled toward his, her hand resting on his thigh.

Kiana was holding a bright red balloon. She was laughing, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. She looked healthy. Vibrant. Alive.

Elinor's stomach lurched. The contrast was a physical assault. Cece in her hospital bed, blue and gasping, versus this child, sitting where Derick could see her, touch her.

Kamryn looked up. Her eyes met Elinor's across the room. A slow, cruel smile spread across her face. She leaned in close to Kiana, her voice carrying across the quiet lobby.

"Look, sweetie," Kamryn said, loud enough for Elinor to hear. "That crazy woman is here again."

Derick's head snapped up. His gaze locked onto Elinor. The warmth in his eyes from a moment ago vanished, replaced by a hard, warning glare.

Elinor walked toward them. Her legs felt like lead, but her rage propelled her forward. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes burning into Kamryn.

Kamryn shrank back, pressing herself against Derick's side. "Derick, please. She's scaring me."

"Stay away from us, Elinor," Derick said, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't make a scene."

"Did you take it?" Elinor asked, ignoring him, her focus solely on Kamryn. "Did you steal my daughter's chance to live?"

Kamryn's face crumpled into a mask of injured innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about! Why are you doing this?"

"She's bloodthirsty," Derick snarled, standing up. He positioned himself between Elinor and Kamryn, a human shield. "You're attacking an innocent woman because you're bitter."

"Innocent?" Elinor let out a harsh laugh. "She is not your family, Derick. She is a liar."

"She is more family than you've ever been," Derick shot back.

The words hit Elinor like a slap. The coldness that had settled in her chest since the crematorium spread, freezing her veins.

A few nurses and visitors had stopped, watching the confrontation with open curiosity. Whispers rippled through the lobby.

Kamryn peeked around Derick's shoulder. She looked directly at Elinor and mouthed two words: You lose.

The rage exploded. Elinor lunged forward, her arm raising, a finger pointing at Kamryn's face. "You stole from her! You let her die!"

Derick moved faster than she anticipated. He grabbed Elinor's wrist before she could reach Kamryn, his fingers closing around the bone like a vise.

"Don't touch her," Derick growled.

Pain shot up Elinor's arm. His grip was bruising, crushing. She looked down at his white-knuckled hand, then up at his face. There was no love there. No concern. Only fury and possession.

She tried to yank her arm back, but he held tight, his fingers digging into her skin, leaving angry red marks.

"Let go of me," Elinor said, her voice trembling with a mix of pain and fury.

She twisted her arm, wrenching it out of Derick's grip. She stumbled back a step, cradling her wrist. A vivid red bracelet of fingerprints was already blooming on her skin.

Derick stepped forward, his jaw clenched. "Apologize. Right now. Or I swear I'll have you removed."

Kamryn was still leaning against the sofa, her hand covering her mouth as fake sobs shook her shoulders. Kiana, frightened by the shouting, started to cry, big tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Bad lady!" Kiana wailed, pointing at Elinor. "Don't yell at my mommy!"

Elinor looked at the little girl. At her healthy pink cheeks, her strong lungs, her intact, functioning body. A body that was alive while Cece's was ash in a locket.

The grief and the rage twisted together inside Elinor, snapping something loose. She started to laugh.

The sound was harsh, grating, completely devoid of humor. It echoed through the lobby, causing the onlookers to step back in alarm. Kamryn stopped crying, her eyes widening as she watched Elinor.

Derick hesitated, thrown off by the sound. "Elinor?"

Kamryn leaned forward, her face partially hidden by her hair. A smirk played on her lips, her eyes glittering with triumph.

Elinor saw that smirk. She saw the red mark on Kamryn's cheek from the hospital slap days ago, fading but still visible. The woman thought she was untouchable.

Elinor stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a flash. She drew back her hand and swung.

The slap rang out like a gunshot.

Kamryn shrieked, the sound piercing the quiet lobby. She fell backward onto the sofa, her hand flying to her face, her body crumpling like a ragdoll.

Derick stood frozen, his eyes wide, his brain struggling to process what had just happened.

Kiana screamed, scrambling to the far end of the sofa, hiding her face in the cushions.

Elinor didn't stop. She pivoted, turning her body to face Derick.

He saw the look in her eyes and instinctively took a half-step back, but his pride caught him. He straightened up, squaring his shoulders.

Crack.

Elinor's palm connected with Derick's cheek with every ounce of strength she possessed. The force of the blow snapped his head to the side. A coppery scent hit the air as his teeth cut the inside of his cheek.

The lobby went dead silent. Even the background music seemed to stop.

Derick slowly turned his head back to face her. A thin line of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were dark, lethal.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of Elinor's blouse at the collar, hauling her up onto her toes. "Are you out of your mind?" he hissed, his face inches from hers.

Elinor didn't flinch. She stared into his furious eyes, her own gaze steady and full of disgust. "Derick Grant," she said, her voice low and clear. "We are done."

Derick's fingers trembled against her collar. The certainty in her voice seemed to unbalance him more than the slap.

Elinor reached up and pried his fingers off her shirt, one by one. She smoothed out the wrinkled fabric, her movements deliberate and calm. She looked over at Kamryn, who was still clutching her cheek, mascara running down her face.

"Enjoy him," Elinor said coldly. "Your days are numbered."

Kamryn flinched, the fear in her eyes genuine this time.

Elinor turned back to Derick. "My lawyer will be in touch."

She reached into her purse. Her fingers closed around the cold band of metal inside. She pulled out her wedding ring-a large, flawless diamond set in platinum. She had taken it off the night Cece died.

She held it up for Derick to see, then let it drop.

The ring hit the polished marble floor with a sharp tink. It spun in a circle, the diamond catching the light, before rolling away under a nearby chair.

Elinor turned on her heel and walked toward the exit. She didn't look back. She kept her spine straight, her shoulders back, even though her wrist throbbed and her heart was shattering all over again.

Derick stood rooted to the spot. He stared at the spot where the ring had landed, the sound of it hitting the stone echoing in his ears like a closing door.