Chapter 3 - St. Catherine’s
The Malibu pulled into the ambulance bay of St. Catherine’s Medical Center at 1:42 AM.
The car was making a horrific screeching noise, steam pouring from under the hood once again, but it had made it. The needle had just touched the hot line as Daniel slammed the gear shift into park outside the main sliding glass doors.
Evelyn didn't wait. She threw her door open and sprinted through the automatic doors into the warm, sterile light of the lobby.
Daniel sat in the driver's seat for a full minute, resting his forehead against the steering wheel, trying to regain feeling in his fingers.
“Daddy?” Lily called softly from the back. “Are we there?”
“Yeah, peanut,” Daniel croaked, his throat raw from the cold air. “We’re here.”
“Is the lady’s mom okay?”
“I don't know, Lily. Let's go inside where it’s warm.”
Daniel unbuckled his daughter, scooped her up into his arms, and wrapped his jacket around her small frame. He stepped out of the steaming, dying Chevy Malibu and carried her into the hospital lobby.
The lobby was quiet, bathed in the soft fluorescence of overnight hospital lighting. Near the central nurse's station, Evelyn was standing, frozen.
Beside her stood a middle-aged doctor in blue scrubs and a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit who looked remarkably like Evelyn, though his hair was disheveled and his expression was a mix of annoyance and defensive anger.
“Evelyn, calm down,” the man in the suit was saying, his voice carrying an arrogant, dismissive edge. “The doctors said she stabilized twenty minutes ago. You didn't need to make a dramatic spectacle of yourself dragging some stranger across the state.”
Evelyn was shaking—not from the cold, but from an overwhelming, furious rage.
“She stabilized now, Julian!” Evelyn shouted, her voice echoing off the tile floors. “Where were you two hours ago when her oxygen saturation dropped to sixty?! You were at a charity gala in Milwaukee!”
“I had business partners to entertain!” Julian Vance snapped, stepping closer to his sister. “Mother’s estate matters require funding, Evelyn! Something you seem to forget while playing president of the charitable foundation!”
“Excuse me,” Daniel’s voice cut through the argument like a blunt axe.
Julian stopped, turning his head to glare at Daniel. He took in Daniel’s mud-stained jeans, his worn boots, his grease-covered hands, and the sleepy seven-year-old child held against his shoulder.
Julian’s lip curled in disgust. “Who is this? Is this the tow truck driver you begged a ride from?”
Evelyn didn't answer her brother. She turned toward Daniel, tears spilling over her cheeks once again, but this time they were tears of profound relief.
“She’s alive,” Evelyn whispered to Daniel, ignoring her brother entirely. “The doctor said the medication caught the infection just in time. She’s awake. She’s breathing on her own.”
Daniel let out a long, heavy breath he felt like he’d been holding since Madison. A genuine, tired smile touched his lips. “I’m glad, Evelyn. I’m really glad.”
“Evelyn,” Julian interrupted sternly, grabbing his sister's arm. “Who is this man? Why are you talking to him like he matters? We have the board meeting in Chicago at nine in the morning, and the family lawyers need your signature on the medical power of attorney shift—”
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“Touch me again, Julian,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping into a register so cold and lethal that even her brother paused, “and I will have security remove you from this building.”
She turned back to Daniel. “Please. Come meet my mother.”
