A metallic taste flooded my mouth. I choked, coughing up a spray of crimson that splattered against the sterile white floor.
The doctors recoiled.
Ellie stood over me, grinning like she was watching the climax of a thriller. "Tick tock! Three seconds! One, two—"
My hand hovered in the air. I wanted to reach for my newborn son, but my heart screamed for my battered brother. My gaze landed on Cole.
The man I'd loved for five years. Married for three.
He stood there, stone-faced, watching me shatter. Not a bystander to my nightmare—the architect of it.
Darkness clawed at the edges of my vision. My lips moved, trying to form a name, an answer, anything—but the floor rushed up to meet me.
Johnny!
"Johnny!"
I gasped, bolting upright.
Heavy hands slammed me back against the mattress. My vision cleared to reveal Cole's icy stare. He sat by the bedside, looking bored.
"Cole." I clawed at his wrist. "Where is he? What did you do to John?"
He peeled my fingers off like removing lint. "You were unconscious for a day. Couldn't make a decision, so I made it for you. I chose the child."
He smoothed his cuff. "You should thank Ellie. If not for her pleading for mercy, John would have lost both hands."
"What?" Horror dawned. "Cole, you monster!"
I tried to scramble off the bed, but he pinned my shoulders down with effortless strength.
"Settle down. You just gave birth." His voice cut sharp. "It's done. Hysterics won't change anything."
"Get off me!" I thrashed like a trapped animal. "That's my brother! My only family! Who gave you the right? I'll kill you, Cole!"
Bang!
The ward door flew open. Ellie strutted in with a thermal container, walked to the window, and dumped steaming chicken soup onto the pavement below.
"Ungrateful bitch." She turned to face me. "You aren't worth the Henson family's soup."
She crossed her arms. "I guess being an orphan means no one taught you manners. My brother treats you like a queen, and you blame him for disciplining your trash brother?"
A cruel laugh. "If it were up to me, I'd have told them to cripple him completely."
She tossed her phone onto the bed. The screen glowed with a paused video.
My blood ran cold.
John. Pinned to the asphalt. A bodyguard swung a wooden bat.
Crack.
The snap of bone was audible through the tiny speakers.
On the screen, my brother curled into a ball, wailing. His voice hoarse, broken, screaming one word: Sis!
A primal roar ripped through me. Adrenaline overrode pain. I shoved Cole with everything I had.
He stumbled back, crashing into the wall.
I didn't wait. Didn't look back. Like a madwoman, I sprinted out of the ward—barefoot, bleeding.
I burst through the hospital entrance and froze.
At the bottom of the steps, a figure lay crumpled in the dirt.
John.
His left hand hung at an unnatural angle. Blood soaked his sleeve. His face was grey, lips moving in a faint, delirious murmur. "Sis... my hand..."
My knees nearly buckled. I staggered down the steps. "Johnny... I'm here. I've got you."
I clutched my abdomen, feeling stitches pull like fire. With my other arm, I hooked under his shoulder, hauling his weight up.
I'd drag him to hell and back if I had to.
