WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?! IRIS!

Chapter 5

Riley didn't hesitate. The woman who had fiercely slapped him the night before disappeared under the crushing weight of a mother’s desperation.

Slowly, agonizingly, she lowered her battered, aching body onto the gravel driveway, her knees digging into the sharp stones right beside his driver-side door.

"I'm kneeling," she whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Please, Fredrick."

Fredrick finally turned his head, looking down at her with an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"You really are a pathetic creature," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

"Did you honestly think kneeling would make me change my mind? Let me make this very clear to you, Riley.

I want that child to die. It’s the best option she has, honestly, because having a fat, desperate, parasite of a mother like you is a fate worse than death itself."

Before Riley could even process the words, Fredrick revved the engine. The car surged forward, spraying smoke into her face as he drove away, leaving her on her knees in the dust.

A bitter, choking sob escaped her throat. As she slowly pushed herself up from the ground, she looked up toward the estate's balcony.

Standing there, holding cups of coffee, were Evelyn and Beatrice. Her mother-in-law and sister-in-law were openly laughing, pointing at her disheveled, broken form on the driveway.

Riley wiped the dirt from her face, her jaw tightening. She didn't care about their laughter. She didn't care about their scorn. The only thing that mattered was that she had failed to get the money.

The walk back to the city was a blur of pure survival instinct. By the time she neared the hospital district, her stomach rumbled violently, reminding her that neither she nor Iris had eaten since yesterday. Iris would need food when she woke up.

Swallowing what little dignity she had left, Riley stood on a busy street corner. She held out her hand to the pedestrians passing by.

"Please, any spare change," she begged, her voice cracking. "My daughter is in the hospital. Just a few dollars for food."

People actively moved away from her. Some looked at her with disgust, murmuring about her torn clothes and messy appearance, assuming she was mad or a drug addict.

Riley didn't care. She blocked out their whispers, her hand remaining outstretched until, after what felt like hours, a few kind strangers dropped enough coins and small bills into her palms.

She quickly bought a small container of warm broth and a bottle of water from a nearby deli and practically ran the remaining distance to the hospital.

She sprinted up the stairs to the pediatric ward, her heart lifting slightly at the thought of seeing her daughter. But the moment she pushed open the door to Iris’s room, her body froze.

The bed was stripped. The heart monitors were gone. The room was completely empty.

"No," Riley whispered, the container of broth slipping from her fingers and spilling onto the floor. "No, no, no!"

Panic, raw and blinding, took over. She ran out into the corridor, screaming her daughter’s name. She grabbed the first nurse she saw by the shoulders, tears blurring her vision.

"Where is my daughter?! Iris! Where is she? Did she... did she die? Oh my god, where is my baby?!"

"Ma'am, calm down!" the nurse said, startled, trying to pull away from Riley's frantic grip. "Are you Iris's mother?"

"Yes! Yes! Where is she?!"

"She's fine! She’s been moved to another room," the nurse explained quickly, adjusting her uniform.

Riley blinked, her breath catching in her throat. "Moved? But... the doctor said she’d be discharged if I didn't pay the deposit. I didn't have the money yet. Why was she moved?"

The nurse smiled softly, her tone instantly becoming respectful. "Your daughter's father came in a little while ago. He paid the entire surgical bill in full, cleared all her past expenses, and insisted she be moved to our private luxury wing on the top floor. He spared no expense."

Riley stood rooted to the spot, a profound shock washing over her. Father? The image of Fredrick driving off, telling her he wanted Iris to die, was still fresh in her mind.

The Fredrick she had seen less than two hours ago didn't care if Iris lived or died.

There was no way on earth he had had a sudden change of heart. It was impossible.

"Father?" Riley repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "Are you... are you sure?"

"Yes," the nurse nodded. "He’s actually with the primary doctor right now in the administrative office, finalizing the transplant schedule. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully upstairs in Room 402."

Riley’s mind was an absolute chaos of confusion and terror.

She needed to see her daughter first, to ensure she was truly safe. She practically sprinted up to Room 402.

Pushing the door open softly, she saw Iris lying in a large, sunlit private room, hooked up to high-end equipment, her breathing steady and peaceful.

Relief washed over her, but the burning question remained. Who had paid for this?

Leaving Iris’s side briefly, Riley walked back out to the nurse's station. "Show me where the doctor's office is. Now."

The nurse pointed down the hall toward a pair of frosted glass doors. Riley walked toward them, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She pushed the door open, the words of confrontation dying on her tongue.

Sitting in the leather chair across from the doctor was a man. He was dressed in a flawlessly tailored suit – nothing like the one Fredrick had worn earlier – his posture commanding and elegant. As the door clicked, he turned his head to look at her.

Riley stopped dead in her tracks, the breath completely leaving her body as she stared into a face she hadn't seen in over ten long years.