Madeline was a crumpled heap of white silk and broken promises at the base of the stairs. Her wails grated against the silence of the private wing like a serrated blade on bone. From the landing, the angles of her legs looked wrong—fractured, jagged, a mess of expensive stockings and ruined skin. She was young, a Winters; she’d heal, but the agony was a hell of a price for a performance.I stood paralyzed at the top of the flight. My heart felt like it was trying to punch through my ribs. One second I was trying to bargain for my life and the life of my kid, and the next, Madeline was trying to toss me into a marble abyss because I was "in the way.""Why, Zack? Why would you do it?" her voice rose in a shrill, tremulous howl that brought nurses sprinting from every direction.They swarmed her. Shouted orders. Stained the floor with trauma kits. Nobody looked up. I was a ghost in a hospital gown, watching the scene through a fog of pure, unadulterated shock. It was her word against min
Last Updated : 2026-02-28 Read more