This hand was ruined saving him.
Now he was using it as an excuse to humiliate me.
"Let me in... please..."
I lifted my head, swallowing the pain. "A life is at stake... it really is..."
"Cut the crap! Leave or we're calling the police!"
The security guard waved his baton impatiently.
A black Maybach rolled up to the entrance.
The window lowered halfway.
That familiar profile.
Adrian.
He was tilted toward the passenger seat, eyes soft with tenderness.
Lily clutched a massive bouquet of red roses, her smile brighter than the blooms.
"Adrian!"
I rushed forward, slamming my palm against the window. "Stop! You stop right now!"
They both startled.
He turned. Through the glass, I caught the shock in his eyes—then it curdled into disgust.
He didn't stop.
Didn't roll down the window. Didn't ask a single question.
One cold glance. A gesture to the driver.
"Drive."
The engine roared. The Maybach tore away without mercy.
Dust and exhaust hit me full in the face.
I stumbled after it, legs giving out. I crashed hard onto the pavement.
My knee split open. My palms scraped raw.
I couldn't feel any of it.
I only saw that car speeding off—carrying my father's last chance—vanishing into the night.
Through the rear window, Lily was nestled in Adrian's arms. He was leaning down, wiping something from the corner of her mouth.
So gentle it broke your heart.
A tenderness he'd never given me.
Not when I took a knife for him. Not when I washed his clothes, cooked his meals, gave him everything.
Eight years of my youth couldn't buy a single backward glance.
I lay on the frozen concrete, staring at the empty street.
The tears finally broke through.
I lost the bet.
Wendy, you lost.
You gambled your father's life on a shred of Adrian's conscience—and you lost everything.
My phone buzzed.
I pulled it out with shaking hands. The screen read: "ICU Attending."
The moment I answered, even the wind seemed to stop.
"Dr. Winfield..."
Heavy. Urgent.
"The patient's pupils are dilating. All vitals are crashing."
"Where are you? Why isn't Dr. Henson here?"
"We... can't hold on."
The phone slipped from my fingers.
I knelt on the ground, facing the direction that car had disappeared, and screamed.
"Adrian—!!"
Only the bone-deep cold answered. My shadow stretched twisted and wrong beneath the streetlight.
Five a.m.
The sky hung a deathly gray-blue.
I don't know how I got back to the hospital.
I remember running red lights. Horns blaring, strangers cursing—noise from another world.
At the elevator, I watched the numbers climb.
Each one dragged my heart deeper.
I gripped my phone—last hope, last shred of dignity.
I dialed Adrian again.
This time, someone answered.
But it wasn't him.
"Hello?"
Lily's voice, sweet and syrupy, lazy with satisfaction.
