Chapter 2 - THE AMBULANCE RIDE
The paramedics arrived in nine minutes.
It felt like an hour.
They placed a cervical collar around my neck and moved me onto a stretcher.
Brandon tried to climb into the ambulance.
I lifted one hand.
“No.”
The paramedic looked between us.
“He’s my husband.”
Brandon said.
“He pushed me.”
I answered.
The paramedic’s expression changed immediately.
Brandon stepped backward.
“That’s not true.”
Miguel stood near the gate.
“I heard her say that before ambulance arrived.”
Margaret folded her arms.
“She hit her head.”
I looked straight at the paramedic.
“I am conscious.”
“My name is Claire Carter.”
“I am thirty-six years old.”
“I know where I am.”
“My husband pushed me from the second-floor balcony because I had evidence of financial crimes involving him and his mother.”
Nobody spoke.
Then the paramedic closed the ambulance doors.
Brandon disappeared from view.
For the first time, I felt safe enough to shake.
The medic checked my blood pressure.
“You’re going to the trauma center.”
“Will the police meet me?”
“They should.”
I reached toward my pocket.
Pain shot through my shoulder.
The medic stopped me.
“What are you trying to get?”
“A USB drive.”
His expression sharpened.
“Evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Leave it where it is.”
“What if someone takes my clothes?”
“I’ll document it.”
He took out a sealed patient property bag.
I hesitated.
The drive held six months of records.
Bank transfers.
Audio files.
Copies of contracts.
Photographs.
One video Brandon would have paid millions to erase.
I pulled it out.
The paramedic watched without touching it.
“I need you to seal this.”
He nodded.
I placed the drive inside the bag myself.
He sealed it.
Then he wrote the time across the strip.
3:48 P.M.
My breathing finally slowed.
“What happened?”
He asked gently.
I looked at the ambulance ceiling.
“Three weeks ago, I found a payment from my late father’s trust to a company I had never heard of.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
His eyebrows rose.
“That led to another payment.”
“Then another.”
“How much total?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I swallowed.
“But at least eight million.”
The medic stared at me.
I continued.
“My husband is an authorized investment manager for the trust.”
“And his mother?”
“Chair of the family foundation.”
He was quiet.
“What did you find today?”
I closed my eyes.
“The reason they needed me dead.”
The ambulance slowed.
Sirens echoed outside.
The rear doors opened.
Doctors and nurses surrounded me.
As they wheeled me inside, a police officer appeared beside the stretcher.
“Mrs. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Mason.”
I looked at the sealed bag.
“That USB stays with me until I sign it over directly to you.”
Detective Mason nodded.
“Understood.”
Then my phone’s shattered remains were placed in a second evidence bag.
The screen was black.
The case was cracked.
Useless.
Or so Brandon thought.
Detective Mason looked toward it.
“Was anything backed up?”
I met his eyes.
“Yes.”
May you like
“How much?”
“Everything.”
