Chapter 3

I was furious. "Their lives matter, but my son's doesn’t?!"

I threw myself toward the crowd of bodyguards.

That was when I caught sight of two all-too-familiar faces. Kieran was surrounded by doctors, a tiny, barely noticeable scratch marring his cheek. Beside him, Nyla wasn't even using her wheelchair. She stood tall, bellowing at the medical team, "If you can't erase every trace of that scar on his face, you're all fired!"

Asher was literally dying, yet she pulled every life-saving doctor in the room to fix a microscopic scratch on Kieran's face.

The rage nearly choked me. Before I could scream, a bodyguard clamped a heavy hand over my mouth, pinning me in place.

I could only watch in terror as my son violently convulsed, frothing at the mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head.

The nurse panicked, frantically dialing number after number for backup, but every call was met with cold, dismissive barked orders.

Time blurred into a nightmare.

When an emergency doctor finally sprinted over, he ran a quick check with his instruments and let out a heavy, solemn sigh. "I'm so sorry for your loss. We were too late. He's gone."

The bodyguard dropped his hand in shock.

Explosions echoed in my head. The freezing rain, the endless strain, and now this unbearable crush of grief ripped the remaining life from my body. My legs buckled. Everything faded into black.

I woke up in a high-end private suite.

Seeing me open my eyes, a nurse offered a quiet, pitying sigh. "The VIP said she deeply regrets what happened to your son. She paid for your hospital bill, and she left a pre-signed settlement agreement for you. Fill in whatever amount you want."

I stared at the signature printed at the bottom: Nyla. I angrily tore it into pieces.

My son was dead. My own body was failing. What use was her money to me?

With bloodshot eyes, I asked, "Where’s my son?"

The nurse opened her mouth, hesitated, and simply looked at me with deep sympathy.

A sickening dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

I yanked the IV out of my arm, swung my legs over the bed, and bolted out the door.

The moment I rounded the corridor, I saw an orderly team wheeling my son’s body straight into the postmortem examination room.

I charged forward to stop them, but security guards shoved me back.

Moments later, Kieran walked up side by side with Nyla, a fresh bandage taped over his cheek.

Nyla squeezed his arm, her eyes full of concern. "Your face is still healing. Are you sure you can handle performing the postmortem examination right now?"

Kieran shook his head softly. "I have to. Your high school sweetheart always wanted to be a medical examiner, so I specialized in pathology to honor him.

"Dr. Summers, the top forensic pathologist in the country, is choosing an assistant for a major residency program in two days," Kieran continued, "Leading the postmortem examination on this case is my only chance to demonstrate my skills and secure that spot."

At the mention of her dead ex, Nyla’s expression softened. She gently adjusted his collar. "Thank you for doing this."

My vision turned red. I screamed, "Nyla! That’s our son lying in there! You can't let him use his body as a practice dummy!"

…

Nyla flinched, sheer shock flashing across her face when she saw me. My words seemed to strike a chord, and she opened her mouth to speak.

Kieran cut in with a heavy sigh. "Mr. Zane, Nyla and I have a strictly professional relationship. Nothing more.

"You were jealous simply because I'm a man, so you targeted me at every turn," Kieran said, his voice heavy with restrained anguish, "You even coached your son to slash my face with a toy, and then you hid him away. I let all that go. But conducting this postmortem examination is critical for my career. Are you really going to ruin this for me too?"

Before I could react, one of Kieran's medical residents pulled out a signed authorization form.

"The patient suffered a severe congenital heart condition and passed away this morning despite emergency efforts. We received full legal authorization from his primary guardian for an immediate pathological study.

"This review is standard procedure to determine the precise cause of death and assist medical research," the resident added, glaring at me, "Why are you trying to obstruct official medical procedure over a personal grudge?"

Bystanders in the hallway began whispering and pointing fingers at me.

Nyla's face darkened. Without another word to me, she raised a hand, signaling for Kieran and his team to proceed.