Chapter 2 - A DIAMOND BRACELET COULD NOT BUY HER FORGIVENESS
Four minutes later, Mara appeared.
She wore dark pants and a gray sweater over the surgical dressing beneath her clothes. Her auburn hair was tied carelessly at the back of her neck.
She looked exhausted.
But she didn’t look broken.
That unsettled him more.
“Mara.”
“Your men stay outside.”
“They will.”
“Say it to them.”
Gideon turned.
“Wait here.”
The men obeyed.
Mara let him inside.
Juniper slept beneath warm lights.
Gideon stopped beside the incubator.
For several seconds he said nothing.
His daughter’s entire chest seemed no larger than his hand.
“What happened?” he asked.
Mara looked at him.
That was the first time anger appeared in her face.
Not loud anger.
Something colder.
“You knew what was happening.”
“I mean with her heart.”
“She has a valve abnormality. She’ll need weekly monitoring for the next three months. Possibly surgery later. The doctors think she can have a normal life if her care is consistent.”
“I’ll get the best—”
“I already have the doctors.”
He stopped.
Mara took a folded document from her bag.
“I need you to sign this.”
He glanced at it.
“What is it?”
“A medical authorization confirming that I can schedule treatment, approve procedures, and manage her care without waiting for your consent.”
“Mara.”
“If you don’t sign, my attorney files Monday morning.”
His eyes lifted.
“Attorney?”
“Ada Bellamy.”
Gideon knew the name.
Ada represented people who did not frighten easily.
He reached inside his jacket instead and brought out the white jewelry box.
“I brought you something.”
Mara did not look at it.
“Sign.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was going to come.”
Mara’s eyes finally met his.
“Don’t.”
“I had a situation—”
“At 2:03, your office line answered the hospital.”
He went still.
“At 2:07, my voicemail reached your phone. At 2:11, the surgical team wheeled me through the doors.”
“Mara—”
“You knew.”
The neonatal monitor continued its soft electronic rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Mara placed a pen on the counter.
“I’m not asking why.”
He stared at her.
“Why not?”
“Because your reason doesn’t change what happened.”
She pushed the document toward him.
“Sign it.”
Something unfamiliar moved across Gideon’s face.
Not fear.
Something closer to humiliation.
Not public humiliation.
The worse kind.
The kind that happens when there are only two people in a room and one of them refuses to help you lie to yourself.
Gideon picked up the pen.
The tattoos across his knuckles bent as his fingers closed around it.
He signed.
Mara picked up her phone.
“I’m recording this.”
“Mara, what the hell?”
“You knew surgery had started?”
Silence.
“Answer.”
He looked at Juniper.
“Yes.”
“You chose to stay at the hotel?”
His face hardened.
Then softened.
“Yes.”
Mara stopped the recording.
“That’s all.”
He stared at her.
“That's all?”
May you like
“For today.”
The bracelet never left the box.
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