Husband Chooses Niece Over Wife

The call came at 2:17 PM on a Tuesday that had started like any other day.

"Mrs. Kennedy, you need to come to the hospital immediately." The voice on the other end was clinical, detached. "There's been an incident involving your mother."

I remember dropping my coffee mug, the ceramic shattering against our marble kitchen floor. The brown liquid splashed across my cream-colored dress, but I barely noticed as I grabbed my keys and ran for the elevator.

The ride to Kennedy Medical Center passed in a blur. My mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. Had she collapsed? Was it her heart? The questions tumbled through my head as I rushed through the hospital's glass doors.

But nothing could have prepared me for what awaited me in the courtyard.

A small crowd had gathered, their faces pale and shocked. Security guards formed a perimeter around something—someone—on the ground. As I pushed through, a collective gasp rippled through the onlookers.

"Paige..." Someone tried to stop me, but I shoved past them.

My mother lay crumpled on the concrete, her silver hair splayed around her like a halo. Blood pooled beneath her head, staining the pristine courtyard red. Her limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, her eyes closed.

"Mom!" The scream tore from my throat as I fell to my knees beside her. "Someone help her! Please!"

Hands pulled at my shoulders, trying to drag me back, but I fought them off. "She jumped," someone whispered. "From the roof."

The world tilted sideways. I looked up at the towering building, its glass façade reflecting the afternoon sun. Twenty-seven floors. She had climbed all the way up here to end her suffering.

"Paige, let the medical team work." Wesley's voice cut through my hysteria. He had appeared beside me, his face a mask of controlled concern. "You're interfering with their efforts."

I turned to him, clutching my mother's limp hand. "She wouldn't do this. Not without reason."

His eyes flickered away from mine. "We'll discuss this later."

---

Three days passed in a haze of antiseptic smells and beeping monitors. My mother remained unconscious, her body connected to machines that kept her alive. The doctors spoke in measured tones about brain activity and spinal damage, their words washing over me without meaning.

"She's stable," Dr. Chen explained during his evening rounds. "But I'm concerned about the lack of improvement in her consciousness levels."

"Will she wake up?" I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse.

He hesitated, his eyes full of pity. "It's too early to tell. The trauma to her brain was severe."

After he left, I sat beside her bed, holding her hand. That's when I noticed her phone on the side table, its screen lighting up with a notification.

A message preview appeared: *Remember what happens to women who don't stay silent.*

My blood ran cold as I unlocked her phone with the passcode I knew by heart—my birthday. There were dozens of messages, each more threatening than the last.

*The videos go public if you speak.*

*Your daughter will be next unless you jump.*

*No one will believe you over us.*

And then, sent just hours before she jumped: *Your family's reputation dies with you. Choose wisely.*

"Paige." Wesley's voice startled me from behind. He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't be looking at that."

"She was threatened," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "Someone drove her to this."

"Give me the phone." He extended his hand.

"No." I clutched it tighter. "We need to call the police. These messages—"

"Are nothing but digital ghosts." Wesley's tone hardened as he crossed the room and plucked the device from my grasp. "This is exactly what I was afraid would happen."

"It's evidence!"

"It's a coincidence." He pocketed the phone. "Your mother has been under tremendous stress. She might have been... careless with her drink at the gala."

"That's not what happened!" I stood, facing him. "Kaliyah was the last person seen with her that night. She disappeared for hours with my mother!"

Wesley's face darkened, his jaw clenching in that way that used to make me afraid. "How dare you? Kaliyah has been nothing but supportive during this tragedy."

"She's manipulating you!"

"Enough!" His voice boomed through the hospital room. "Your mother is fighting for her life because of an accident—or perhaps because she's been struggling with mental health issues she kept hidden. But to blame a young woman who has already suffered so much trauma?"

I stared at him, seeing a stranger before me. "You won't even consider it?"

"I forbid it." Wesley stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If I hear you making these delusional accusations again, I'll have you committed for evaluation. You're clearly not thinking rationally."

As he turned to leave, taking my mother's phone with him, a cold realization settled in my chest. The man I had married—the man who had once defied his family for me—was now my enemy.

And he was protecting the person who had destroyed my mother.