Night fell over New York City, bringing a violent storm with it.
Gale-force winds howled through the streets, driving heavy sheets of rain against the thin, rattling windows of Adrianne's Brooklyn apartment.
Jaelynn sat slumped on the cheap sofa. Adrianne had just finished wrapping her swollen wrist tightly in an Ace bandage. They were sitting on the floor, sharing a greasy box of cheap takeout pizza.
"I'm going to his corporate headquarters tomorrow," Jaelynn said quietly, chewing on a piece of crust. "I'm going to wait in the lobby until he sees me. I'll force him to make a deal."
Before Adrianne could answer, the cell phone sitting on the wobbly coffee table started vibrating violently.
The screen lit up. The caller ID read: Mount Sinai Hospital - ICU.
Jaelynn's heart completely stopped.
Her hand jerked, dropping her pizza onto the rug. She scrambled forward on her knees and snatched the phone off the table.
"Hello?" she answered, her voice shaking.
"We need to do an emergency craniotomy," the on-call neurosurgeon, Dr. Evans said urgently. "But Arthur Howard came in this afternoon. He presented a power of attorney document that we are legally obligated to follow. He signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical payment accounts."
"No!" Jaelynn screamed.
"We're doing everything we can, but his situation is critical. I need your consent to proceed immediately," the doctor finished. Suddenly, another voice came on the line. "Ms. Grant, this is hospital administration. I'm sorry to bother you at this time, but we need to sort out the payment authorization to proceed with the surgery. Mr. Howard has put a hold on the account, and hospital policy requires a hundred-thousand-dollar surgical deposit to override his legal block."
The line went dead.
Jaelynn stared at the black screen. All the blood drained from her body.
She didn't think. She acted on pure, animal instinct. She grabbed her coat off the chair and ran for the door.
"Jae! What's wrong?" Adrianne yelled in panic.
"My dad is dying," Jaelynn choked out, throwing the door open and running out into the storm.
The Brooklyn streets were flooded. The wind whipped the freezing rain into her face like tiny needles.
She pulled out her phone. Her fingers were numb from the cold and shaking so violently she could barely unlock the screen. She opened the Uber app, hitting the request button over and over.
The loading circle spun endlessly. No drivers were accepting rides in this weather.
Jaelynn shoved the phone into her pocket. She ran down the sidewalk, her boots splashing through deep puddles, desperately looking for a yellow cab.
A massive delivery truck sped past her, hitting a pothole. A wave of freezing, oily mud splashed over her, soaking her clothes to the skin.
Her foot slipped on the slick pavement.
She crashed hard onto the concrete. Her knees scraped against the rough ground, tearing her skin. Blood mixed with the dirty rain washing down her legs.
The sheer hopelessness of it all crushed her. Jaelynn lay in the puddle and let out a raw, agonizing scream that was swallowed by the thunder.
But she couldn't stop.
She gritted her teeth, using her good left hand to push her bruised, soaked body off the ground.
She limped forward, running like a zombie through three more blocks of pouring rain.
Finally, she saw an off-duty black car. She threw herself in front of it. The driver slammed on the brakes.
Jaelynn ripped the door open. She pulled every crumpled dollar bill she had out of her pocket and threw it at the driver. "Mount Sinai Hospital. Manhattan. Now. Please!" she sobbed.
The car sped through the flooded streets. Jaelynn sat shivering in the backseat, her eyes glued to the clock on the dashboard. Every minute felt like a knife twisting in her gut.
The car screeched to a halt outside the emergency room entrance.
Jaelynn didn't even close the door. She sprinted into the blindingly bright hospital lobby. She was completely soaked, covered in mud and blood, looking like a madwoman.
She shoved past the security guards, ignoring their shouts, and threw herself into the elevator.
When the doors opened on the ICU floor, chaos greeted her.
A team of nurses was sprinting down the hall, pushing a hospital bed toward the surgical wing.
Lying on the bed was Garfield. His skin was gray. The machines attached to him were screaming a continuous, flatline alarm.
"Dad!" Jaelynn shrieked. She lunged forward, grabbing his freezing, lifeless hand.
Dr. Evans and a hospital administrator stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Dr. Evans held a clipboard with a surgical consent form, while the administrator held a massive bill attached to it.
"We are prepped and ready, but my hands are tied legally," Dr. Evans said, his face tight with professional stress. The administrator stepped forward, devoid of empathy. "Ten minutes, Ms. Grant. If the deposit isn't paid in ten minutes to override Mr. Howard's power of attorney, we stop the prep."
Jaelynn stared at the astronomical number printed on the paper.
The pain in her broken wrist, the freezing cold of her wet clothes, and the absolute despair in her heart reached a breaking point.
Her pride shattered into dust.
She slowly reached into her soaked coat pocket. Her trembling fingers pulled out the gold-embossed business card. The paper was wet, but the name was still perfectly clear.
Dolph Valentine.
