I woke to the steady rhythm of machines and the sour, metallic taste coating my throat. The ICU lights burned through half-open lashes, and I forced myself to stay unfocused—just enough awareness to understand, not enough to be noticed.

“What did they do to her?” he asked Lena.

“Attempted unauthorized transfer,” she said quietly. “And statements suggesting intent.”

Jake’s jaw clenched.

He wasn’t alone.

A lawyer.

A detective.

Questions filled the room.

Lena handed me a letter board.

“Can you focus?”

I nodded slightly.

Slowly.

Painfully.

I spelled:

THEY DID THIS.

The detective leaned closer.

“Did what?”

I swallowed around the tube.

THE CRASH.
PLANNED.

The word hung in the air.

Planned.

Ethan re-entered just as I finished spelling.

His eyes were locked on the board.

For a split second, I saw it.

Not afraid.

Rage.

Jake stepped between us.

“You’re done,” he said.

Ethan opened his mouth.

Security stepped forward.

“Sir, we need you to step out.”

The hallway cameras captured everything.