Page 62 of Deception

Mitzi lowered the phone and called out, “Is there an Olive Robinson here?”

“That’s me.” Olive picked up her backpack and made her way to the desk. “Yes?”

“Rebecca said she’ll see you. She’s in Room 122. Go through the doors, head to the left, and you’ll see the room just ahead. You probably won’t want to stay long, however. She’s very tired.”

“Of course.” Olive gave Mitzi a polite nod. “Thank you.”

The door buzzed, and Olive stepped through. She wished she could wait until Nova got back, but she had to strike while the iron was hot, as the saying went.

She found Room 122 and paused.

At once, she told herself to think like her dad. What would he do in this situation?

He’d be charming. Make people feel special. Show no signs of doubt.

That was how Olive needed to act now also.

But she hated herself for trying to reflect any part of her dad’s character.

Olive stepped into Rebecca’s room and paused.

Rebecca lay in a hospital bed. An IV was hooked to her arm, and machines beeped behind her. Matt sat in a chair on the other side of the bed, that same worried expression on his face.

The sight of Rebecca looking like this took Olive back.

She could totally see where someone who 100 percent believed Rebecca would have their heartstrings tugged on.

Bright, exuberant Rebecca now looked pale-faced and tired. She wore a hospital gown, and her hair wasn’t as shiny and stylish as usual. Even her eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle.

However . . . the woman had lowered her phone as soon as Olive walked into the room. Based on the angle she’d been holding it, Olive had to wonder if Rebecca had been making a TikTok video for her followers.

Olive swallowed hard. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Rebecca offered a weak smile. “You didn’t have to wait around.”

Olive stepped closer. “I wanted to know how you were doing.”

“As well as can be expected,” Rebecca said. “They’re going to do some tests and see if they can figure out exactly what’s going on. Hopefully, there aren’t any new tumors. It could be something as simple as an ulcer. With all the stress we’ve been under, it’s a possibility. That’s what we’re hoping, at least.”

“So you don’t know how long you’ll be here?”

“No.” She paused, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “I hope this doesn’t throw off your documentary. I know you can only stay in town for a limited amount of time.”

“The documentary is the least of my concerns right now,” Olive told her. “I’m just sorry you’re not feeling well.”

“Me too.” Rebecca glanced at Matt and squeezed his hand.

The look they exchanged nearly broke Olive’s heart.

She hated feeling so conflicted. But she did. Part of her wanted to believe this was all true and Rebecca was a victim instead of someone who preyed on people’s good intentions.

Olive drew in a breath, trying to set her emotions aside. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing really. We sent a friend to the house to pick up my medications . . . I try to have them all written down, but a couple of them changed recently. I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

Olive wished she could see those medications—if she could see if they were real and if Rebecca’s name was really on the bottles.

“What about Willow?” Olive asked. “Should I pick her up for you?”

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