Chapter 3 - The Race Against Midnight
The storm outside St. Matthew’s was relentless. Sheet lightning illuminated the dark Boston skyline, casting long, jagged shadows across the wet pavement.
Ethan’s black Maybach sat parked near the chapel stairs. Marcus, his personal driver and bodyguard for over a decade, jumped out with an umbrella the second he saw Ethan burst through the heavy double doors with a child in tow.
"Sir? What happened? The ceremony—" Marcus stopped dead when he saw the state of his boss. Ethan’s tuxedo jacket was soaked, his tie missing, his eyes blazing with a dangerous, primal light.
"Get in the car, Marcus. Drive," Ethan commanded, throwing open the back door and lifting Lucy gently inside.
"Where to, Mr. Pierce?"
"St. Jude’s County. Emergency ward. Run every red light in the city."
"Yes, sir." Marcus slammed his door, fired the twin-turbo V12 engine, and launched the heavy sedan forward, its tires screaming against the slick asphalt.
Inside the quiet, leather-trimmed cabin, the contrast between Ethan’s luxury world and Lucy’s harsh reality was unbearable. Lucy sat on the edge of the seat, her muddy sneakers hovering above the pristine floor mats, shivering uncontrollably.
Ethan immediately turned the climate control to maximum heat. He reached into the rear console, pulled out a thick cashmere throw blanket, and wrapped it gently around the girl’s shoulders.
"Drink this," Ethan said, handing her an unopened bottle of water from the mini-fridge.
Lucy took it with trembling hands. She took one small sip, her eyes constantly darting to Ethan as if expecting him to disappear or turn into a monster.
"I’m not lying," she whispered softly, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "I swear I’m not lying, mister... I mean... Mr. Pierce."
The word 'mister' sliced through Ethan’s heart like a rusted blade.
"I know you're not lying, Lucy," Ethan said, his voice softer than he had ever spoken to anyone in his professional life. He reached out, hesitating for a second, before resting his large hand over her small, blanket-wrapped shoulder. "I know."
"Mom didn't want me to go," Lucy sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "She kept the checks in an old tin box under her bed. She never cashed them. Not even when we were kicked out of our apartment last winter. Not even when we had to sleep in the back of the laundromat."
Ethan felt a sickening coil of guilt tighten around his throat. Twelve years. Twelve years he had lived in penthouse suites, dining on private jets, while his child slept in the back of a laundromat.
"Why did she keep them?" Ethan asked quietly.
"She said... she said they were her insurance," Lucy said, her voice small. "She said if anything ever happened to her, I was supposed to take the box to a lawyer. But this morning, the hospital people said she wouldn't wake up tomorrow. She couldn't breathe. So I looked up your picture on the library computer. I saw the news article about the big wedding at the chapel..."
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes fierce despite her small frame. "I didn't care about the money. I just wanted my mom to have a doctor who cared. The doctors at St. Jude’s... they stopped coming into her room two days ago."
Ethan pulled out his encrypted phone. He didn't dial his company. He didn't call his legal team. He dialed a private, direct line to Dr. Harrison Vance, the Chief of Surgery at Massachusetts General Hospital and a close personal friend.
"Harrison," Ethan said the second the line connected.
"Ethan? Where are you? I thought you were currently saying 'I do' to Victoria Hale," Dr. Vance said, chuckling over the speaker.
"I need your team," Ethan cut in, his voice dead serious. "Get the pediatric trauma team, your best pulmonary specialist, and an emergency transport unit. Move them to St. Jude’s County Hospital right now."
There was a sudden pause on the other end. "Ethan, St. Jude’s is a underfunded public facility. What’s going on?"
"My daughter is dying there," Ethan said clearly, looking at Lucy. "Her mother is Olivia Bennett. If you let her die tonight, Harrison, my life ends too. Move."
May you like
"I'm on it," Vance replied instantly, dropping his casual tone. "Five minutes."
Ethan ended the call and leaned his head back against the leather headrest, closing his eyes. He reached over and took Lucy’s cold hand into his. She didn't pull away this time. She squeezed back with all the fragile strength an eleven-year-old girl possessed.
