Chapter 4 - The Bloodline That Could Save Him
By evening, Ethan’s condition improved.
But Dr. Mercer was not smiling.
She met us in a consultation room.
“There’s good news and bad news.”
“Good first,” Ethan said from his wheelchair.
I had argued against bringing him.
He had argued harder.
Dr. Mercer gave him a small smile.
“The transfusion stopped the active bleeding.”
Ethan looked at Adrian.
“So his blood works.”
“Very well, actually.”
Adrian leaned against the wall.
“And the bad news?”
“This condition won’t disappear.”
I squeezed Ethan’s shoulder.
Dr. Mercer continued.
“He can live a full life, but we’ll need a treatment plan. Certain injuries will be more dangerous for him than for other children.”
“No football?” Ethan asked.
“Probably not tackle football.”
He looked offended.
“I don’t even like football.”
“Then we’re already winning.”
Adrian asked, “What happens if he bleeds again?”
“We prepare compatible blood products in advance.”
“And if those aren’t available?”
Dr. Mercer looked at him.
“You are his closest registered match.”
Adrian nodded.
“Then I stay available.”
I turned.
“You can’t organize your entire life around—”
“My son needing blood?”
His gaze met mine.
“Yes, Claire. I can.”
Ethan looked between us.
“Are you two always like this?”
“No,” we both said.
Ethan sighed.
“Okay.”
Dr. Mercer handed me a folder.
“I want Ethan transferred from intensive trauma to pediatric observation tonight.”
“That’s good?” I asked.
“Very.”
For the first time all day, hope felt real.
Then Adrian’s phone vibrated.
He read the screen.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He looked at Marcus, who had entered silently.
Marcus answered for him.
“Someone accessed Ethan’s medical chart remotely.”
My stomach dropped.
Dr. Mercer stood.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
“Who?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Adrian crouched beside Ethan.
“Buddy, I need you to do something for me.”
Ethan blinked at the word buddy.
“What?”
“You’re changing rooms.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m paranoid.”
“That means scared.”
Adrian gave him a thin smile.
“Sometimes smart men are both.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Mom?”
I wanted to say Adrian was overreacting.
Then I remembered the photograph on my windshield.
“Do what he says.”
Within minutes, the hallway transformed.
Adrian did not fill it with guns or shouting.
He did something far more frightening.
He became quiet.
“Marcus, private room.”
“Done.”
“Two men at each access point.”
“Already moving.”
“Hospital security?”
“Working with us.”
“No uniforms inside Ethan’s room.”
Marcus nodded.
Ethan whispered to me, “Does Dad do this a lot?”
The word Dad stopped Adrian mid-sentence.
He turned.
Ethan seemed embarrassed.
“I mean… Adrian.”
Adrian looked at him for a long second.
“You can call me whatever you want.”
“Okay.”
But the smile Adrian tried to hide told me exactly what he wanted.
That night, Ethan fell asleep around ten.
Adrian and I stood outside his room.
“You should go home,” I said.
“So should you.”
“I’m his mother.”
“And I’m apparently something biologically relevant.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
Adrian looked at me.
“I missed that.”
“What?”
“That.”
“Don’t.”
“Claire.”
“We are not doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Pretending seven years didn’t happen because our son is in a hospital.”
“I’m not pretending.”
“Good.”
“I’m furious with you.”
“That’s more familiar.”
“And I understand why you ran.”
That surprised me.
He continued.
“I don’t forgive it.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“But I understand it.”
My throat tightened.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was twenty-five and terrified.”
“I know.”
“I thought one day away would become a week. Then a month.”
“And then seven years.”
“Yes.”
He looked through the window at Ethan.
“I would have protected him.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
“No.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
Before he could respond, Marcus approached.
“We found the chart access.”
Adrian straightened.
“Who?”
“An internal hospital terminal.”
Dr. Mercer arrived behind him.
“Which terminal?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Administrative records.”
“That floor is closed overnight.”
“Not tonight.”
He handed Adrian a tablet.
Security footage showed a man in blue scrubs standing at a computer.
The angle never captured his face.
But I recognized something.
“Pause.”
Marcus stopped the video.
I leaned closer.
The man wore a silver ring.
Black stone.
Engraved edge.
I had seen that ring before.
Seven years ago.
On the hand of the man who leaned toward me outside a grocery store and whispered that Blackwood men got funerals.
My voice barely worked.
“That’s him.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Who?”
“The man who threatened me.”
Marcus stared at the screen.
Adrian’s face went completely still.
“You’re certain?”
“I’ll never forget that ring.”
Ethan’s monitor beeped softly behind us.
Adrian looked toward his sleeping son.
Then he said two words.
May you like
“Find him.”
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