I refused every interview.
Grant, naturally, did not.
Ten days after his arrest, while out on a staggering bail posted by a business associate too loyal or too compromised to refuse, Grant appeared on camera outside the courthouse.
He wore a charcoal suit.
His face had been carefully made up.
His voice trembled at all the right moments.
“My wife is unwell,” he said to the cameras. “I love Clara deeply. I am devastated by these accusations, but I believe the truth will come out. Addiction, stress, and mental health are private family matters. I ask for compassion.”
I watched from my hospital bed.
Beside me, Detective Voss swore under her breath.
Dr. Reed reached for the remote.
“Leave it,” I said.
Grant looked straight into the camera then.
For one impossible second, it felt as if he were looking into my room.
“I forgive her,” he said.
Something inside me went very quiet.
