The yellow taxi slammed on its brakes in front of the Mount Sinai Hospital emergency entrance.
Adaline shoved a crumpled bill at the driver.
She pushed the door open and sprinted into the freezing rain.
The cold water plastered her hair to her face.
She ignored the triage nurse calling out to her. She ran through the sliding glass doors, her wet boots squeaking against the linoleum floor. She headed straight for the intensive care wing.
At the end of the sterile white hallway, Dr. Roth was walking toward her. He held a metal clipboard against his chest. His face was drawn, the lines around his mouth deep with grim news.
Adaline's steps slowed. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, painful rhythm.
Dr. Roth stopped in front of her. He lowered his voice. "Miss Bennett. I am so sorry. The bone marrow donor who matched your mother... they backed out. An hour ago. They canceled the procedure entirely."
The words hit her like a physical blow.
Adaline's knees buckled. The strength drained from her legs. She swayed, almost collapsing onto the floor that reeked of bleach and rubbing alcohol.
She pulled her phone from her wet pocket with shaking fingers. She dialed Baker's number. She needed him. She needed his family's connections.
The call went straight to a cold, automated voicemail.
Adaline lowered the phone, her mind racing through the paralyzing panic. She needed him. She remembered Baker mentioning he was hosting a client dinner nearby and had permanently reserved the VIP family lounge on the third floor of this very hospital for 'emergencies.' A desperate lifeline formed in her chest. If he wasn't answering, maybe he was already here.
She bypassed the elevators and took the stairs, her thighs burning with every step. She pushed through the heavy fire doors onto the third floor and walked toward the VIP lounge.
She reached the door. She raised her hand to knock.
She stopped. The blinds on the glass panel of the door were not fully closed.
Through the narrow gap, she saw a pile of expensive clothing discarded on the floor.
A silk blouse. A designer skirt. They were brands her stepsister, June, flaunted daily.
A high-pitched, sickeningly sweet moan pierced right through the thin wood of the door.
Adaline's pupils dilated. The blood rushed from her head, leaving her dizzy.
She grabbed the door handle and shoved it down. The door wasn't locked. It flew open, hitting the wall with a loud bang.
On the leather sofa, Baker was entangled with June. Their bare skin gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights.
The sight made Adaline's stomach heave. Bile rose sharply in her throat.
Baker scrambled backward. His eyes were wide with panic. He grabbed his discarded dress shirt, holding it over his waist. "Adaline! It's-wait, I can explain-"
June didn't panic.
She picked up a silk robe from the armrest and slipped it over her shoulders. A vicious, triumphant smirk curved her lips.
Adaline pointed a trembling finger at them， "Is this why you didn't answer your phone?"
June walked toward her， "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Addie. By the way, I paid that bone marrow donor a hundred grand to take a vacation outside of New York. Permanently."
The air left Adaline's lungs. The last thread of her sanity snapped.
She lunged forward. She raised her hand and brought it down hard across June's face.
The slap echoed like a gunshot in the small room.
June shrieked. She clutched her cheek and threw herself backward, landing perfectly against Baker's chest.
Baker's face flushed with angry embarrassment. To protect his bruised ego, he shoved Adaline hard in the chest.
Adaline stumbled backward. Her spine slammed into the sharp edge of the glass coffee table. The brutal bruises from the hotel room flared with blinding agony. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead.
"You're a boring, frigid piece of wood, Adaline!" Baker yelled, pointing at her. "I've been sick of your cold act for months!"
June leaned into Baker. She looked down at Adaline. "You're a bankrupt princess, Addie. You have nothing. No one cares about you. You're trash."
Adaline looked at the two of them. The frantic beating of her heart suddenly slowed. A terrifying, dead calm washed over her.
She didn't shed a single tear. The corners of her mouth twitched upward into a cold, hollow smile.
"The engagement is off," Adaline said. Her voice was flat. Dead.
Baker flinched at the emptiness in her eyes. He puffed out his chest. "You break this off, and your father will cut off your trust fund! You'll have nothing!"
Adaline didn't answer. She turned around. She forced her spine to straighten, ignoring the screaming pain in her back.
She walked out of the room. She placed one foot in front of the other, moving like a machine.
The moment she stepped out of the VIP wing, the invisible armor shattered. She hit the wall of the elevator, gasping for air as if she were drowning.
She stumbled out of the hospital lobby. The New York sky had opened up. A torrential downpour was flooding the streets.
She walked out into the storm. The freezing rain soaked through her clothes in seconds.
Adaline collapsed onto a wet wooden bench near the sidewalk. She pulled her knees to her chest. The icy rain washed over her face, masking the hot, desperate tears finally tearing their way out of her eyes.
