Chapter 2 - Four Hungry Children
Marcus stepped between the children and the SUV before Victor could ask another question.
A man in a gray coat climbed out, saw Marcus, and stopped.
For a long second nobody moved.
Then the man smiled.
“Sorry. Wrong address.”
He got back inside.
The SUV pulled away.
Eli was shaking so hard Rosie’s blanket trembled in his arms.
Victor looked at Marcus. “Plate.”
Marcus memorized it without needing to be told twice.
Victor turned back to the children.
“You’re coming with me.”
Eli immediately backed away. “No.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“We’re fine.”
The five-year-old boy behind him whispered, “I’m not.”
Eli closed his eyes.
Victor almost smiled, but the movement died before it reached his face.
“What’s his name?”
“Sam.”
“And your sister?”
“Nora.”
Victor ordered four meals to go. Eli tried to refuse until Rosie began crying, then pride lost its argument with hunger.
Twenty minutes later, they were inside Victor’s townhouse on Beacon Hill.
The place was enormous and unnaturally quiet.
Nora stared at a staircase that Victor could no longer use.
“Do you live here alone?”
“With staff.”
“That means yes,” she said.
Marcus coughed to hide a laugh.
Victor didn’t.
After they ate, he called his private physician.
Dr. Simon Cross arrived forty minutes later, carrying the same black leather medical bag he had carried every week since Victor’s spinal infection supposedly destroyed the nerves to his legs.
Simon stepped into the library.
Then he saw Eli.
The color left his face.
Eli dropped his spoon.
“You.”
Victor looked from the boy to his doctor.
“You know each other?”
Simon recovered quickly. “I don’t believe so.”
Eli stood.
“You came to our apartment.”
Simon’s expression hardened.
Victor felt something cold move through him.
“When?”
Eli pointed at Simon’s medical bag.
“The night before my mom died.”
Simon laughed once. “Victor, this child is confused.”
Eli reached into his coat and pulled out a bent hospital badge.
The name on it read ELENA MARQUEZ, RN.
Victor knew that name.
He had seen it once in a complaint file his attorneys told him was meaningless.
A nurse who claimed his medication had been altered.
A nurse who had died before anyone interviewed her.
Victor looked at Simon.
“Sit down.”
May you like
Simon did not move.
Instead, he slowly reached for his phone.
