Chapter 2 - THE CLINIC IN THE WOODS
The screen of the tiny phone illuminated Ethan’s face in the dim light of the mansion’s security room. He watched the live feed with a cold, terrifying clarity. Victor’s hand hovered over Amelia’s IV line. The syringe was filled with a cloudy, yellow liquid. “Where is this?” Ethan demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He turned to Nora. The housekeeper was sobbing on the marble floor, her wrists pinned behind her back by two of Ethan’s private security guards. “I don’t know!” Nora cried. “Lie to me again,” Ethan said, “and I will let the police charge you with the attempted murder of a billionaire. You will never see daylight.” Lily tugged on Ethan’s pant leg. “Daddy?” The word still sent a shockwave through his chest, but he forced himself to focus. “It’s a place with tall trees,” Lily whispered, her small hands trembling. “It smells like pine needles and bleach. When Aunt Nora took me to see Mommy, we drove over a loud metal bridge.” Ethan’s mind raced. Pine needles. A metal bridge. “The old Blackwood logging estate,” Ethan realized. It was a private, secluded property his grandfather had owned, abandoned decades ago. It was less than a twenty-minute helicopter flight from the mansion. Ethan turned to his head of security, Marcus. “Prep the chopper. Now.” “Sir, the board meeting—” “To hell with the board meeting!” Ethan roared. “My wife is alive!” Before Ethan ran toward the helipad, he knelt in front of Lily. He took off his heavy suit jacket and wrapped it around her small shoulders. “You stay with Marcus, sweetheart. He won’t let anyone hurt you. I am going to bring your mother home.” Lily grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “He hurts her when she remembers you,” she whispered. Ethan’s blood turned to ice. He stood up, grabbing the sealed evidence bag containing the poisoned tea, and ran out into the night. The helicopter ride was a blur of adrenaline and pure rage. Ethan stared out the window into the darkness, his mind replaying the last seven years. The empty bed. The agonizing grief. The lonely nights staring at the ultrasound photo. Victor had watched him suffer every single day. Victor had patted his shoulder at the funeral. The helicopter descended over a dense canopy of pine trees, its spotlight cutting through the darkness. Below, a small, heavily fortified concrete building sat beside an old riverbed. Ethan didn’t wait for the skids to touch down. He jumped the last four feet, sprinting toward the steel double doors. Two armed mercenaries stepped out of the shadows, raising their rifles. Ethan didn’t hesitate. He unholstered the sidearm he had grabbed from his security vault and fired two warning shots into the dirt at their feet. “Blackwood estate!” Ethan shouted. “Stand down or die for a man who is already finished!” The mercenaries hesitated. They were paid contractors. They recognized the CEO. They lowered their weapons. Ethan kicked the steel doors open. He sprinted down a long, sterile hallway that smelled exactly as Lily had described: bleach and pine. He found Room 4. He smashed the electronic keypad with the butt of his gun, grabbed the handle, and threw his weight against the door. It burst open. The room was empty. The hospital bed was unmade. The IV stand was tipped over, a puddle of cloudy yellow liquid pooling on the linoleum floor. Victor was gone. But on the bedside table, a small object caught the harsh fluorescent light. Ethan stepped forward, his breath catching in his throat. It was Amelia’s silver wedding band. The one she had been wearing the night of the hospital fire. Beneath the ring was a handwritten note on Blackwood Industries stationery. You’re too late, Ethan. But don’t worry. She doesn’t remember you anyway. Suddenly, a heavy steel shutter slammed down over the only window in the room. The electronic lock on the door behind Ethan engaged with a loud, mechanical clack. A hissing sound echoed from the air vents above. A thick, sweet-smelling white gas began pouring into the room. Ethan grabbed his collar, pulling it over his mouth, and slammed his shoulder against the door. It didn’t budge. His vision began to blur. As he slid down the wall, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with heavy, uncoordinated fingers. It was a text message from Marcus, his head of security. Sir, we have a problem. Dr. Hayes just arrived at the mansion. He took Lily.
