Chapter 2

The young nurse wiped the sweat from my forehead. Tension crept into her expression, but she steadied herself and told me not to worry.

She said Leonard was the best cardiothoracic specialist in the country, that he had pulled patients back from the brink of death more times than anyone could count. She told me to hold on just a little longer.

I thought about what had happened in the corridor. Nothing stirred inside me.

The monitors beside me began to shriek.

"When's the deputy chief getting here? The patient's vitals are dropping!"

Dr. Hendricks' voice was tight with urgency as he shone a penlight into my eyes with unsteady hands. My pupils were already starting to dilate.

The operating room doors opened. The nurse who had gone to find Leonard came running back, drenched in sweat. "Dr. Hendricks, Dr. Whitaker left right after his surgery. Word is he went out to buy daily supplies for the convict."

She caught her breath. "And his phone's been busy this whole time. We can't get through at all."

Dr. Hendricks started emergency measures, calling my name over and over.

"Keith, hang in there! We're all right here with you. You've got your whole future ahead of you. Don't you dare give up!"

I fought to keep my eyes open. He was right. There was still so much I had not finished. I had not yet brought Damien to justice.

I could not die. Not yet.

The will to survive tore through me, fueled by nothing except the dream I had fought so long to protect. Dr. Hendricks began his attempt to remove the rebar from my chest. I looked at the staff crowded around the table, and something inside me tightened with gratitude.

The nurse who had been trying to reach Leonard suddenly called out from across the room, "We got through! Dr. Whitaker finally picked up!"

She rushed over with the phone held high, her voice bright with relief. Everyone in the room exhaled.

Then Leonard's voice cut through the speaker, sharp and cold. "Keith, where are you? Get to Operating Room 1 and give Damien a blood transfusion. Now."

Dr. Hendricks went pale. His hands faltered before he leaned toward the phone.

"Dr. Whitaker, Keith is in surgery right now. His vitals are critical. He could die at any moment. We need you in the operating room immediately."

The line went dead before he finished.

The nurse holding the phone stared at it in disbelief. "How can anyone say that? His own son is lying right here, and he's out running errands for a fugitive?"

"And he calls himself a deputy chief? He doesn't deserve the title. Someone should report him!"

The staff did not know the truth about Leonard and Damien's relationship. They continued to voice their outrage on my behalf until Dr. Hendricks, worried the commotion would set me off, shot the nurse a sharp look and motioned for her to stop.

I closed my eyes. None of it surprised me.

When Leonard had walked past me in the corridor, he had said one more thing. He told me that the only way Damien would ever be safe was if I died. I held irrefutable evidence of Damien's crimes. Between the two of us, only one could walk away alive.

Leonard chose his own flesh and blood.

Dr. Hendricks clenched his jaw and ordered the nurses to contact the central city hospital for specialist backup.

"And notify the police. He may only be a cadet, but he was injured during an active pursuit. The authorities need to investigate this."

Before long, the central hospital dispatched a team of specialists. The incident drew the attention of every news outlet in the city. It was only then that Leonard, still in his surgical scrubs, strode into the operating room.

A bunch of crew members from national broadcasting stations were already waiting outside the door.