Chapter 3 - Sterile Lights and ShadowsThe emergency room at St. Jude Memorial Hospital smelled of bleach, antiseptic, and quiet desperation.
For three agonizing hours, Luke sat in the hard plastic chairs of the waiting alcove, little Ava curled asleep in his lap. Her tear-stained face was buried against his chest, her small breaths hitching every few minutes as lingering shock echoed through her dreams.
Luke stared down at the documents he had rescued from the chapel floor. Under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room, the full scope of what had happened began to piece itself together.
The medical records showed that Grace had spent months visiting obscure regional clinics under an assumed name—or rather, her maiden name, which she had resumed after fleeing. The prenatal checkups confirmed what his eyes had already told him: she was nearly eight months pregnant. The child she carried was his.
And then there were the financial printouts.
Bank transfers, wire receipts, and ledger extracts detailing massive sums funneled out of his personal business accounts into shell corporations controlled by a wealth management firm. A firm that, as a small footnote revealed, was retained by the Whitmore family.
Brooke hadn't just manipulated him; she had systematically isolated him, engineered Grace’s disappearance, and convinced him that his wife had abandoned him willingly because she “didn't value his ambition.”
A pair of heavy double doors swung open, and an exhausted-looking ER physician in green scrubs stepped out, wiping his forehead with a paper towel.
“Are you Mr. Bennett?” the doctor asked, his eyes scanning the empty room before landing on Luke.
“Yes. That’s me. How is she? How’s the baby?” Luke stood up carefully, trying not to wake Ava.
The doctor sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “She’s stable, but it was close. She’s suffering from severe exhaustion, malnutrition, and blunt force trauma to her abdomen and limbs. The bruising indicates she was physically restrained and assaulted very recently.”
Luke felt a vein throb violently at his temple. “And the baby?”
“Miraculously, the baby’s heartbeat is strong. We’re monitoring her closely for signs of premature labor induced by trauma. But Mr. Bennett… I need to ask you something. She has defensive wounds on her arms, and she’s terrified. Who did this to her?”
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Luke looked down at the sleeping child in his arms, then back at the doctor. The bitter taste of vengeance coated his tongue.
“My former fiancée,” Luke said steadily. “And I’m going to make sure she pays for every single second of it.”
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