Chapter 4 - The Private Wing
The seventh floor of Northwestern Memorial Hospital did not look like a medical facility. It looked like a boutique hotel in London—thick wool carpets, cherry-wood paneling, and private rooms where the medical monitors were concealed behind landscape paintings until they were needed.
Ruby Monroe sat in the center of a massive, adjustable bed, wearing a pair of yellow cotton pajamas that Ethan’s security team had purchased from a luxury boutique downstairs. Her hair had been washed and combed, the tangles gone, revealing the rich, chestnut brown color that Lily had possessed. She was holding a silver spoon, staring down into a bowl of organic chicken broth as if it were an artifact from an ancient civilization.
"You can eat it, Ruby," Ethan said softly. He was sitting on a low stool by the side of the bed, his jacket gone, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
Ruby looked at him over the rim of the bowl. "Is it expensive?"
"It doesn't matter what it costs," Ethan said. "It’s just soup."
"My mom says everything costs something," Ruby whispered, taking a tiny sip from the spoon. She chewed on the broth as if it were solid food. "She says if somebody gives you something for free, you look for the catch."
Ethan felt a familiar, sharp pang in his chest. For seven years, Lily had never asked if something was expensive. She had thrown her toys into the lake; she had spilled juice on ten-thousand-dollar oriental rugs; she had lived with the absolute, unthinking confidence of a child who believed the world was an infinite vending machine designed for her comfort.
Ruby lived like a soldier in an occupied city.
"There’s no catch here, Ruby," Ethan said, reaching out to touch the yellow ribbon that the nurses had saved from her old clothes. It lay on the nightstand, clean now but still frayed at the edges. "I promise you."
The door to the private room clicked open, and Dr. Robert Chen, the head of pediatric internal medicine, stepped inside. He had a digital tablet under his arm, his expression serious but professional. He nodded to Ethan, signaling him toward the corridor.
Ethan stood up, his hand briefly lingering near Ruby’s feet through the thick blanket. "I’ll be right back, okay? Eat your soup."
Ruby didn't look up; she just nodded, her focus entirely on the chicken broth.
Out in the corridor, the light was soft and indirect.
"How is she?" Ethan asked, his voice tightening.
"Physically, she’s stable," Dr. Chen said, tapping his screen. "Mild dehydration, significant iron-deficiency anemia, and her caloric intake has been below the baseline for a child her age for at least six months. But her bone density is good, and there are no structural signs of developmental delay. We’re running a full metabolic panel, but frankly, Ethan... she just needs food, rest, and a clean environment."
"And Rachel?" Ethan asked, his eyes turning toward the door at the end of the hall where the adult ICU was located.
Chen sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. "The pulmonary infection is advanced. It’s a secondary complication from a poorly managed auto-immune condition—lupus, most likely. She hasn't been taking her maintenance medications because... well, look at where she was living. Those drugs cost nine hundred dollars a month without insurance. We’ve started her on an IV steroid regimen and a high-efficiency antibiotic cocktail. She’s stable, but her lung capacity is compromised. She’s going to need long-term care."
Ethan leaned his head against the wood paneling of the hospital wall. "Can she recover?"
"With proper treatment? Yes," Chen said. "She’s twenty-six, Ethan. Her body wants to live. But she’s been running on pure adrenaline and survival instinct for seven years. The moment she saw you, her system basically gave up because she knew the girl was safe. It’s a common psychological reaction in mothers who have been in high-stress environments."
Ethan pulled his wallet from his pocket, his fingers finding his black corporate card. He didn't look at it; he handed it to Chen. "Set up a dedicated trust account for the medical bills. Everything. For both of them. I want a private nurse assigned to Rachel twenty-four hours a day, and I want Ruby’s room monitored by my personal security. No one from my family gets on this floor, Robert. No one."
"I’ve already alerted the security desk, Ethan," Chen said, taking the card. "Your mother’s name is on the automatic lockout list. But you need to know... Margaret called my office ten minutes ago. She wanted to know if we had initiated a comparative genetic analysis between the two children."
Ethan’s jaw set, a cold, dangerous fire lighting behind his eyes. "What did you tell her?"
"I told her I’m a physician, not a corporate investigator," Chen said softly. "But Ethan... she knows. The video from the cemetery has been downloaded from the security cameras by a third-party firm. Your mother has the footage of Ruby. She knows exactly what that girl looks like."
May you like
Ethan looked back through the glass panel of Ruby’s room. She had finished the broth. She was now holding the silver spoon against her cheek, looking out the high window at the Chicago skyline, where the lights of the buildings were starting to flicker on against the dark November night.
"Let her look," Ethan whispered. "The next time my mother sees that face, it will be across a federal courtroom."
