Chapter 2 - Cold Triage
The sterile smell of antiseptic washed away the suffocating scent of Eleanor’s perfume. The back of the ambulance bounced over the uneven cobblestones of the long driveway, red and blue lights painting frantic patterns against the glass. Ava stared up at the roof of the vehicle, her chest rising and falling beneath the rhythmic hiss of oxygen. The paramedic checked her vitals, his brow furrowed as he read off blood pressure numbers that were dangerously low. Malnutrition, severe contusions, and a lingering fractured rib told a horrific story of prolonged domestic abuse disguised as grieving seclusion.
Christian followed closely behind in his black sedan, his headlights cutting through the heavy midnight mist. He didn't just carry Julian’s final will; he carried the burden of Julian’s dying confession. For nine months, Eleanor had intercepted every medical report, every bank alert, and every legal subpoena. She had cut Ava off from phones, visitors, and medical care, slowly starving her into submission to force her into signing a waiver of survivorship. If Ava had succumbed to that head injury tonight, Eleanor would have inherited the entire fortune by default.
At Saint Jude Memorial, the emergency room team moved with practiced urgency. Ava was wheeled into Trauma Bay 3, where warm blankets and IV fluids finally chased the bone-deep chill from her veins. Dr. Morales, a sharp-eyed physician who had known Julian’s family for decades, examined the gash on Ava’s forehead. He wiped away the dried blood, noticing old, faded bruises along her collarbone that Eleanor had deliberately concealed.
""These aren't from a recent fall,"" Dr. Morales said grimly, meeting Christian’s gaze through the partition glass. ""Someone has been systemically breaking her down.""
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Ava shifted on the gurney, her dry lips parting beneath the oxygen mask. Christian stepped into the bay, gently closing the curtain. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes glistening with raw terror and confusion. ""Christian... the key,"" she rasped, her hand clenching into a weak fist. ""What does it open?""
Christian took a breath, his jaw tightening. ""A private locker at Julian's private hanger. Eleanor didn't just want the house, Ava. She’s already moving Julian’s hidden assets out of the country.""
