Chapter 2 - THE DOCTOR’S CONFESSION

“Adrian, look out!”

The warning tore from my throat as pure, unfiltered instinct took over. I didn’t think. I shoved Adrian hard in the shoulder, throwing him off balance just as the guard pulled the trigger.

The bullet tore through the air, grazing Adrian’s bicep instead of his skull.

Adrian didn’t stumble. The man was a force of nature. Using the momentum of my push, he spun around, drawing a sleek black handgun from his shoulder holster in a blur of motion. Two suppressed shots spit from his weapon.

The traitorous guard dropped to the concrete floor, his gun clattering uselessly away.

The laundry room fell dead silent, save for the hum of the massive industrial dryers.

Elias let out a small whimper, pressing his face into my neck.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” I whispered, rocking him instinctively. My hands were shaking, but my mind was terrifyingly clear. I looked at Adrian. Blood was rapidly soaking through the sleeve of his white dress shirt, staining the expensive fabric a deep crimson.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, rushing toward him.

“It’s a graze. I’m fine,” Adrian grunted, keeping his weapon trained on the downed guard as he kicked the man’s gun away.

“No, it’s not,” I snapped, an authoritative tone slipping out of me that I didn’t recognize. I handed Elias to Adrian’s uninjured side. “Hold him.”

Adrian blinked in surprise but took his son. Elias clung to his father’s neck, his big gray-blue eyes watching me.

Without hesitating, I grabbed a clean white towel from a nearby laundry cart. I tore it down the middle with frightening efficiency. I approached Adrian, grabbed his arm, and applied intense, agonizing pressure just above the wound.

Adrian winced, but his eyes locked onto mine. They were burning with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“You didn’t even flinch,” Adrian said softly.

“I... I don’t know how I know how to do this,” I stammered, tightly binding the towel around his bicep. I tied a surgical knot, my fingers moving entirely on their own. “I’m a hotel maid. I clean rooms.”

“Before you were a surrogate, you were a trauma medic in the Narrows,” Adrian said, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s how we met, Sarah. Five years ago. I was bleeding out in an alley after an ambush. You found me. You didn’t care who I was. You just saved me.”

My hands froze on his arm.

A dark alley. Rain pouring down. A man in a ruined tuxedo. My hands slick with blood. A deep voice whispering, ‘What’s your name, angel?’

A violent headache spiked behind my eyes. I stumbled back, clutching my temples.

“Sarah!” Adrian reached for me, but I shook my head, fighting through the wave of nausea.

“I’m okay. We need to move.”

I crouched beside the dead guard. I didn't know why, but I began patting down his pockets. In his inner jacket pocket, I felt something hard. I pulled out a cheap, plastic burner phone.

The screen was lit up with a single, unread text message.

I tapped the screen.

The message read: The mother is alive. Finish it. - C.

“C,” I whispered, showing the phone to Adrian.

Adrian’s face drained of color. The mafia boss, who had just taken a bullet without blinking, looked as though the floor had dropped out from beneath him.

“Camilla,” he breathed.

“Who is Camilla?”

“Elena’s sister,” Adrian said, his voice going cold. “The heir to the Corsetti crime family. When Elena died in that car crash, Camilla took over the syndicate. She’s ruthless. And she despises my bloodline.”

Adrian looked down at Elias, his jaw tightening. “The Corsettis have always believed Elias belongs to them. Because Elena was legally his mother, Camilla believes she is his rightful guardian. She’s been trying to take him from me through the commission for years. But if she finds out Elena wasn’t his biological mother...”

“She loses all legal and mob claim to him,” I finished, understanding dawning on me.

“Exactly,” Adrian said. “If you are alive, Sarah, you destroy her entire claim to my son. She ordered the hit on the clinic four years ago. She ordered the fire. And she just bought my most trusted man.”

We heard the heavy thud of boots echoing down the service elevator shaft. Camilla’s men were coming.

“Through the door,” I said, grabbing the silver key Dr. Aris had dropped earlier. I shoved it into Adrian’s uninjured hand. “Keep this safe. I think I know where it goes.”

We pushed through the heavy iron door into the pitch-black maintenance tunnel. The air was cold and smelled of damp earth and rust.

We ran for what felt like miles, navigating the labyrinth of pipes and concrete. Finally, the tunnel opened up into an old, abandoned subway station. Faint moonlight filtered down from a grating above.

We paused to catch our breath. Adrian leaned against a tiled pillar, heavily favoring his uninjured arm. Elias was falling asleep on his shoulder, exhausted by the trauma.

I looked at Adrian. In the dim light, the harsh lines of his face softened.

“Why did I erase my memory, Adrian?” I asked quietly. “If I loved you. If I loved him. Why would I ask the doctor to make me forget?”

Adrian looked at me, a profound sadness in his eyes. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a delicate, worn object.

It was a silver rosary.

“You gave this to a priest the night Elias was born,” Adrian said, pressing the cool beads into my palm. “Father Thomas. He kept it hidden for four years. He only gave it to me yesterday, when he realized Camilla was making a move.”

I stared at the rosary. The silver cross felt heavy. I ran my thumb over the back of the cross.

It wasn’t solid.

There was a tiny seam.

I pressed my nail into the groove, and a micro-latch popped open.

Inside the hollow cross was a tightly rolled piece of microfilm.

“You didn’t erase your memory because you were running from Camilla,” Adrian said, his voice breaking. “You erased it because you found out the truth, Sarah. You found out who really helped Camilla order the fire.”

I unrolled the microfilm, holding it up to the faint moonlight.

My heart stopped.