Chương 3
Derek glanced at the phone.
“Who are you calling? Your freelance lawyer friend?”
I pressed my grandfather’s name.
He answered before the second ring.
“Harper?”
The relief in his voice almost broke me. I swallowed it.
“Are you still in the building?”
“Yes.”
“I need you upstairs.”
A pause. Not hesitation. Movement.
“What happened?”
I looked at Derek.
“There’s a man threatening your great-grandchildren inside one of your hospitals.”
Derek smiled.
Not broadly. Just enough to show he believed I had finally become ridiculous.
My grandfather’s voice went flat.
“Which unit?”
“North neonatal family bay.”
“I’m coming.”
The call ended.
Derek gave a short laugh. “Your grandfather owns a hospital now?”
The woman beside him did not laugh. She had been staring at the crest printed in silver on the folder from the Founders’ Dinner. The same crest appeared on the wall above the nurses’ station.
RIVERSIDE MEDICAL NETWORK.
Her hand dropped from her belly.
“Derek,” she said.
He turned toward her. “What?”
She looked at me. Then at the name on my patient bracelet, half-hidden beneath the IV tape.
HARPER MERCER SHAW.
Mercer had been my father’s surname. Vale belonged to my mother and grandfather. My wedding announcement had been small, local, and deliberately free of family biographies. I had spent most of my adult life avoiding rooms where people introduced themselves by net worth.
The woman’s lips parted.
“You said her grandfather was retired.”
“He is.”
“He’s downstairs.”
Derek frowned.
The unit door unlocked with a low mechanical click.
Two hospital security officers entered first. Behind them came Dr. Patel, the medical director of the maternal-fetal program, still wearing the dark suit he had put on for the dinner. My grandfather followed in a tuxedo, his white hair combed back, his reading glasses folded in one hand. He did not hurry. He never hurried when he was angry.
Derek recognized him before my grandfather saw Derek.
I watched recognition empty my husband’s face.
For six years, Derek had attended every conference where Silas Vale might appear. He had memorized the names of Riverside executives, learned which board members played golf, which ones collected wine, which charities my grandfather supported. Once, after a dinner in Chicago, Derek had spent forty minutes complaining that Silas Vale had walked past him without remembering his name.
Now Silas Vale walked into the NICU and came directly to me.
He did not look at the divorce papers. He did not look at the woman wearing my coat. He put one hand against my cheek.
“Are you hurt?”
“No more than before.”
His eyes moved to the IV, then the incubators. Noah’s oxygen level had settled at ninety-four. Emma’s fingers opened and closed near her face.
My grandfather lowered his hand.
“Which man?”
I nodded toward Derek.
For the first time since he had entered, my grandfather looked at him.
Derek’s mouth opened.
“Mr. Vale.”
My grandfather said nothing.
“We met at the Summit Health conference last year,” Derek continued. “Derek Shaw. Northbridge Medical.”
“I remember Northbridge.”
Derek took that as encouragement. “I had no idea Harper was your—”
“That seems to be the only part of this situation troubling you.”
“No, sir. That’s not what I meant.”
Dr. Patel picked up the loose page from the floor. He read the heading, then looked at Tasha.
“What happened?”
Tasha spoke without drama. She gave the time Derek entered, the visitor he brought, the papers he presented, the financial statements he made, and the words he used about the babies. She quoted him exactly. Derek interrupted twice. Each time, Dr. Patel raised one finger and Tasha continued.
The woman began backing toward the door.
One security officer stepped sideways, not blocking her but making escape less casual.
“I don’t need to be here,” she said.
I looked at the coat.
“The names of my children are inside your collar.”
Her hand flew to her throat.
“This was given to me.”
“By a man who took it from my bedroom while I was recovering from surgery.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You told me I wouldn’t need it anymore.”
Her eyes turned to Derek. “That’s what you said.”
Derek’s voice sharpened. “Stop talking.”
My grandfather held out his hand.
“May I see the documents?”
Derek pulled them against his chest.
“They’re private.”
“They were served to a patient in a hospital I am responsible for, under circumstances my staff is now documenting. You may hand them to Dr. Patel, or you may keep them and wait for hospital counsel.”
Derek glanced toward the security officers.
“You can’t detain me.”
“No one said you were detained,” Dr. Patel replied. “You are being asked to leave a restricted unit.”
“I’m the father.”
“You used your parental access to bring an unauthorized visitor into the neonatal unit after identifying her as the patient’s sister,” Tasha said.
The woman turned on him. “You said they knew.”
“I said it was handled.”
“You told them I was her sister?”
“Not now.”
My grandfather’s gaze shifted to the woman’s belly, then back to Derek. His expression did not change, which made Derek speak faster.
“Harper and I have been separated emotionally for a long time. This isn’t sudden. I came here to make sure she understood the financial situation. I realize the timing looks bad.”
“The timing does not look bad,” my grandfather said. “The timing is bad.”
Derek licked his lips.
“I’m willing to leave. I don’t want conflict.”
“You brought conflict into a room containing two medically fragile newborns.”
“I made a mistake.”
My grandfather looked at me. “Is that what you believe?”
The room waited.
I had spent most of my life watching people answer my grandfather’s questions as though there were a correct response hidden in them. He had that effect on senators, surgeons, and waiters who had forgotten his coffee. But the question belonged to me.
“No,” I said. “I think he made a plan.”
Derek’s face went red.
May you like
“Harper.”
“You transferred the money before I went into surgery, didn’t you?”
