Chapter 2 - THE FROZEN TRUST
I didn’t wait for the crosswalk light. I dodged a blaring taxi, my Italian leather shoes soaking through in the icy puddles, and pushed through the heavy glass doors of the Institute for Pediatric Cardiology.
The lobby smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee.
I scanned the crowded waiting room. My chest tightened until it physically ached.
Then I saw her.
Clara was standing at the financial administration desk, her soaked trench coat dripping onto the linoleum floor. The two boys were sitting on a plastic bench a few feet away.
Under the harsh fluorescent lights, I could see what the dark subway had hidden. The younger boy—the one with my hazel eyes—was breathing too shallowly. His lips had a faint, terrifying bluish tint. He was clutching a small, worn wooden train, his knuckles white.
I took a step toward them, but Clara’s voice stopped me. It was raised, trembling with a panic I had never heard from her before.
“What do you mean the account is locked?” Clara gripped the edge of the counter. “The wire transfer was supposed to clear this morning. The surgery is tomorrow!”
The clerk behind the glass looked sympathetic but exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes. The issuing bank placed a hard freeze on the trust two hours ago. We cannot proceed with the preoperative prep without the deposit.”
“Try it again,” Clara begged, her voice breaking. “Please. Leo’s valve is failing. If he doesn’t get into that OR tomorrow—”
“Ma'am, the block didn't come from a system error,” the clerk interrupted gently. “The block was initiated by the account holder. The Vance Family Trust.”
The air in my lungs turned to ash.
The Vance Family Trust. My family’s trust.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
“Run it again,” I said, stepping up right behind Clara.
Clara spun around. When she saw me, all the color drained from her face again. She stepped in front of the boys’ bench, shielding them with her body like I was a predator.
“Julian,” she breathed, her voice a mix of fury and pure terror. “Get away from us.”
“Clara, I can fix this—”
“You did this!” she hissed, tears finally spilling over her eyelashes. “You let us disappear for four years, and the exact day my son needs his heart repaired, you freeze the only money keeping him alive?”
“I didn’t freeze anything,” I said, my voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “I swear to you, I didn’t even know that trust existed.”
Clara stared at me, her chest heaving. She searched my face for a lie, just like she used to when we fought about my late nights at the office.
Before she could speak, the double doors to the ICU swung open.
A tall man in surgical scrubs walked out holding a chart. He looked straight at Clara.
“Clara,” the doctor said grimly. “We have a bigger problem than the billing department. The donor valve we secured for Leo was just redirected.”
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My blood ran cold. “Redirected to who?”
The doctor looked at me, confused, then back to Clara. “To a VIP patient. The order came directly from the hospital’s board of directors.”
