Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Told Me to Run
Her name was Margaret Carter.
Elegant.
Silver-haired.
Terrifying without raising her voice.
Eight years earlier, she had found me outside David’s apartment before I had even told him I was pregnant.
She already knew.
“I assume you believe David will protect you,” she had said.
“I haven’t asked him to.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
She gave me an envelope.
Inside were photographs.
A burned vehicle.
A young woman.
A hospital sheet pulled over a body.
“She was pregnant too.”
My stomach had turned.
“Who?”
“Someone my son once cared about.”
Margaret watched me carefully.
“She believed a Carter child made her protected.”
“What happened?”
“She misunderstood what powerful families protect first.”
I had assumed Margaret meant the family’s reputation.
Maybe I was wrong.
That night she gave me cash, documents under my maiden name, and one instruction.
Leave Chicago.
Never contact David.
Never tell anyone about the child.
I hated her for years.
Now, standing outside David’s ICU, I wondered whether the woman had been threatening me.
Or warning me.
“Mom.”
Chloe tugged my hand.
“Why is he looking at me?”
“Because he’s confused.”
David’s gaze remained fixed on her.
Then another man entered the ICU corridor.
Every nurse noticed.
Tall.
Black suit.
Gray at the temples.
Calm in the way dangerous people often are.
Marcus Carter.
David’s uncle.
His father’s younger brother.
I recognized him immediately.
He recognized me too.
That frightened me.
“Natasha Simmons.”
Not a question.
Chloe moved closer to me.
Marcus looked at her.
Then completely stopped.
His eyes narrowed.
“How old is she?”
“Why?”
“How old?”
Dr. Winters stepped between us.
“Sir, this is a restricted medical area.”
Marcus ignored her.
His gaze stayed on Chloe.
“Eight?”
I said nothing.
His face lost color.
Then he whispered:
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?”
He looked toward David.
Then back at Chloe.
“You should not have brought her here.”
A chill ran through me.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“Her blood may save his life.”
That seemed to horrify him more.
Marcus suddenly grabbed his phone.
“Cancel everything.”
I stared.
“What are you talking about?”
He walked several steps away.
“No one enters this floor without my approval.”
Then:
“And find Margaret.”
My stomach tightened.
“Margaret is alive?”
Marcus turned.
“You didn’t know?”
I had been told she died five years ago.
Heart failure.
Private funeral.
No public viewing.
Of course.
In David Carter’s family, apparently even death had layers.
Then Chloe walked closer to the ICU glass.
David’s eyes followed her.
A nurse adjusted his oxygen.
He whispered something.
Chloe couldn’t hear.
She smiled at him anyway.
David almost smiled back.
Marcus saw it.
His face became grim.
“You need to leave with the girl.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“Natasha.”
“No.”
He studied me.
Then lowered his voice.
“David wasn’t supposed to survive surgery.”
“What?”
His eyes hardened.
“The hemorrhage wasn’t a complication.”
My heart stopped.
“Someone caused it.”
Behind us, David’s monitor suddenly accelerated.
A nurse shouted.
Then a hospital orderly pushed a blood cooler through the ICU doors.
Marcus looked at the cooler.
Something about it changed his expression.
“Stop him.”
Nobody moved quickly enough.
The orderly reached David’s room.
Marcus lunged toward the door.
“DON’T CONNECT THAT BLOOD!”
The corridor exploded into motion.
Security grabbed the orderly.
The cooler hit the floor.
One blood bag slid across the tile.
Dr. Winters picked it up.
Her face went white.
“This isn’t compatible blood.”
Marcus looked at me.
Then at Chloe.
And said:
“They weren’t trying to save David.”
May you like
He pointed at my daughter.
“They were waiting for her to arrive.”
