Chapter 3 - THE SURGERY
At Northwestern Memorial, Toby clung to Clara while a nurse brought a pediatric wheelchair.
“Mom, I don’t want to go.”
Clara crouched.
“I know.”
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
Toby stared at her.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She pressed her forehead against his.
“Brave doesn’t mean you aren’t scared. It means you take the next step anyway.”
“You’re coming?”
“Every step they let me.”
He finally nodded.
The nurse wheeled him through the doors.
Clara followed until staff stopped her.
Dominic remained in the waiting area exactly as promised.
The next four hours reduced Clara’s world to a clock.
Bad coffee.
Locked doors.
And Toby’s birthdays.
One.
The chocolate cake he wasn’t allowed to eat.
Three.
The first time he asked why other kids could run longer.
Five.
The night his lips turned blue during a snowstorm.
Seven.
A hospital bill she could not pay.
Dominic sat across from her.
He checked the old Omega on his wrist occasionally.
Never asked a question.
Once Nicholas called.
Dominic declined the call.
At 7:45, the surgical doors opened.
Dr. Arthur Evans approached.
Clara stood so quickly her chair struck the wall.
“How is he?”
“The valve replacement was successful.”
Her breath disappeared.
“His blood pressure dropped during the procedure, but he stabilized.”
The surgeon smiled tiredly.
“Your son is strong.”
For years Clara had remained upright because there had been nobody else to fall apart for her.
Now her knees gave way.
Dominic caught her by the elbows.
“He made it.”
One tear crossed the burn scar near her cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
He released her.
Then reached inside his coat.
Another folder.
This one was older.
The cover carried a faded federal seal.
Across the front, one word had been stamped in red.
GHOST.
Clara stopped breathing.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a photograph of her wearing a navy suit outside the London School of Economics.
Younger.
Thinner.
Different hair.
But unmistakably her.
Beneath it sat copies of offshore ledgers tied to forty-two million dollars that had disappeared from the Marino Syndicate.
Her initials were beside the final transfer.
Dominic looked at her.
“Tell me why Clara Sullivan didn’t exist until five years ago.”
Clara stared at the file.
Five years of running had just ended.
Not with sirens.
Not with handcuffs.
In a hospital corridor while her son was finally safe.
May you like
Then she looked at the Omega on Dominic’s wrist.
And realized they might not be safe at all.
