The next morning, a black, bulletproof sedan pulled up to the entrance of a highly discreet, luxury nursing home in Long Island.

Two massive bodyguards stepped out first. They flanked Audra, their eyes scanning the perimeter, watching her every move with hawkish intensity.

Audra walked through the sliding glass doors. The sharp, chemical smell of bleach and antiseptic hit her nose, making her stomach clench. She walked briskly down the long corridor and pushed open the heavy door to the VIP suite at the end of the hall.

Inside, Nurse Brenda Clegg was sitting in a chair beside the bed. She was scrolling through her phone with one hand. With the other, she was carelessly scraping a plastic spoon full of scalding hot puree against Eleanor's tightly shut lips, deliberately pinching the frail woman's inner arm where the bruises wouldn't be seen. Eleanor twisted her head weakly on the pillow, trying to avoid the painful heat. 'Eat it, you difficult old burden,' Brenda whispered venomously, her voice a low, psychological torment. The moment Brenda heard the door open, her vicious scowl vanished, instantly replaced by a sickeningly sweet, professional smile as she turned around.

The sight ignited a blinding rage inside Audra. She lunged across the room and shoved Brenda hard in the shoulder.

The ceramic bowl flew out of Brenda's hand. It shattered against the marble floor, sending hot, sticky puree splashing across the walls.

"Are you crazy? What is wrong with you!" Brenda shrieked, stumbling back and glaring at Audra with pure malice.

Audra didn't hesitate. She raised her hand, channeled every ounce of her anger and grief into her palm, and slapped Brenda across the face as hard as she physically could.

Smack.

The sharp sound echoed in the room. Five bright red finger marks instantly bloomed across Brenda's cheek.

"Who gave you the right to touch her like that!" Audra screamed, her eyes bloodshot, looking like a lioness protecting her cub.

Brenda clutched her stinging cheek. She looked toward the door, expecting the two men in black suits to intervene. But the bodyguards stood perfectly still, their faces blank. Anderson's orders were to keep Audra contained and Eleanor alive; the nurse's well-being meant nothing to them. Realizing she had no backup, Brenda scrambled out of the room in terror.

Audra turned back to the bed. Her hands were shaking. She pulled a soft handkerchief from her purse and gently, carefully wiped the spilled food from Eleanor's chin.

"Mom, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I'm late," she whispered, her tears falling freely, landing with soft taps on Eleanor's cold, wrinkled hand.

Feeling the warmth of the tears, Eleanor's eyelids fluttered. Slowly, her cloudy eyes opened.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly for a second before focusing on Audra's face. Suddenly, Eleanor's chest began to heave. Her breathing turned rapid and shallow.

Her bony fingers shot out, gripping the sleeve of Audra's trench coat with surprising, desperate strength. Her nails dug into Audra's wrist.

"The TV... I saw... on the TV..." Eleanor mumbled, her words slurred, her lungs working overtime to push the air out.

Audra's heart skipped a beat. She followed Eleanor's frantic gaze to the flat-screen television mounted on the wall.

It was playing a rerun of the morning entertainment news. The screen showed Eben walking down the red carpet at The Plaza hotel.

Eleanor raised a trembling finger, pointing directly at Eben's face on the screen. Tears poured from her aged eyes. "Kendall... my Kendall didn't die..."

She tried to force herself to sit up. The sudden exertion caused the heart monitor beside the bed to emit a rapid, high-pitched warning beep.

"Mom, please, you have to calm down! Your heart can't take this!" Audra panicked, gently pressing her hands against Eleanor's shoulders to keep her flat on the bed.

"Bring him to me! Audra, please, I am begging you, let me see my son!" Eleanor cried out hysterically, her voice breaking with absolute desperation.

Looking into the pleading, shattered eyes of the woman who had raised her, Audra felt a physical pain slice through her chest.

She knew exactly how much Eben hated her. She knew that going to him meant walking directly into a meat grinder of humiliation and revenge.

But looking at Eleanor's failing body, she knew she had no choice. This was the woman's dying wish.

Audra wrapped her hands tightly around Eleanor's freezing fingers. She nodded her head firmly. "I promise you, Mom. I will make him come see you."

She stood up. She aggressively wiped the tears from her face, her eyes hardening with resolve. She walked out of the hospital room. The two bodyguards instantly fell into step behind her, their shadows looming over her like a death sentence.

Audra walked out of the nursing home, her mind racing. She stopped near the lobby restrooms. "I need to use the bathroom," she told the guards, her voice flat.

The guards nodded, standing on either side of the restroom door. Audra slipped inside. She locked the stall and quickly pulled out her phone, dialing the nursing station's internal line. Disguising her voice, she reported a violent code blue emergency in the opposite wing. The moment she heard the heavy boots of her guards sprinting down the hall to secure the perimeter, she slipped out of the bathroom, grabbed a discarded doctor's coat from a laundry cart, and blended perfectly into a crowd of panicked medical staff rushing toward the fake emergency, successfully losing her shadows for a few precious hours.

She emptied her pockets. She had exactly thirty-four dollars in cash. She hailed a yellow cab and gave the driver the address for Eben's corporate headquarters in Midtown Manhattan.

The cab dropped her off a block away. The towering glass skyscraper was surrounded by yellow police tape. A massive crowd of aggressive paparazzi and journalists swarmed the main entrance, waiting to get a shot of the billionaire.

Audra pulled her collar up and hid in the dark shadows next to a large industrial dumpster near the underground parking garage exit. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her eyes glued to the concrete ramp.

At exactly five o'clock, the heavy metal grate rolled up. A fleet of three black Maybachs slowly drove up the ramp.

Audra instantly recognized the middle car. It bore Eben's exclusive, custom license plate. She took a deep breath, her lungs burning with cold air, and sprinted out from behind the dumpster.

Screech!

The agonizing sound of burning rubber filled the street. The heavy Maybach slammed to a halt, the front bumper stopping less than four inches from Audra's kneecaps.

Arthur, the driver, rolled down his window and stuck his head out, his face red with anger. "Are you out of your mind! If you want to kill yourself, do it somewhere else!"

Audra ignored him. She threw her body against the rear passenger door, her hands slapping frantically against the thick, bulletproof glass.

"Eben! Please, just look at me! I beg you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. The journalists at the front entrance heard the commotion and began running toward the garage, their cameras raised.

The tinted window slowly rolled down halfway.

Eben's face appeared in the gap. His profile was carved from ice. He didn't even turn his head to look at her.

He stared straight ahead and issued a cold command to Arthur. "Run her over."

The Maybach's engine roared to life. The car jerked forward. The sudden movement caught Audra off guard. She was thrown backward, her body hitting the rough asphalt. The skin on her palms tore open, bleeding instantly.

She gritted her teeth against the sharp pain. She scrambled to her knees, ignoring her bleeding hands, and yelled at the departing taillights. "It's your mother! Eleanor wants to see you!"

The moment the name "Eleanor" hung in the air, the bright red brake lights of the Maybach flared. The car stopped dead in the middle of the street.

The rear door swung open. Eben stepped out. His long legs carried him quickly toward her. Flashbulbs erupted around them like a strobe light as the paparazzi finally caught up.

Eben stopped right in front of her. He looked down at her bleeding hands and dirty coat with absolute, unmasked disgust.

"You have the nerve to mention my mother?" he leaned down, his voice a low, lethal hiss meant only for her ears. "When you sold me out three years ago, did you ever stop to think if she would survive the grief?"

Audra reached out, her bloody fingers desperately grabbing the edge of his tailored suit jacket. "I know you hate me. But she misses you so much. She saw the news, and her heart is failing. Please."

Eben let out a harsh, mocking laugh. He violently slapped her hands away, brushing his jacket as if she had infected him with a disease. "Anderson Hopper's dog doesn't get to lecture me about family."

He turned around, ready to walk away.

Audra watched his broad back retreating. She knew this was it. If he got back in that car, Eleanor would die of a broken heart.

She closed her eyes. She let go of the last shred of pride she possessed.

Thud.

A heavy, sickening sound echoed over the clicking of the cameras. Audra dropped to her knees, hitting the freezing, unforgiving asphalt with brutal force.

The flashbulbs went into a frenzy. Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd of journalists and onlookers.

Eben's footsteps stopped abruptly. He slowly turned his head, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the woman kneeling at his feet.

This was Audra Hill. The woman who used to be so proud she wouldn't bow her head to anyone. Now, she was kneeling in the dirt like a beggar.

"I am begging you. Go see her," Audra said, her voice shaking uncontrollably. She bent forward, pressing her forehead against the cold, dirty street. "If you go, I will do whatever you want. Anything."

Eben's chest rose and fell rapidly. A chaotic storm of emotions raged in his amber eyes. There was vindictive satisfaction, blinding rage, and a tiny, deeply buried stab of physical pain in his chest that he refused to acknowledge.

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning stark white. He stared down at her trembling shoulders.

"Drive." His voice held not a single shred of warmth, the command sounding like two blocks of ice grinding together, dripping with absolute contempt.

He turned on his heel, got back into the Maybach, and slammed the door. The motorcade sped away, leaving Audra kneeling alone on the street, blinded by the flashes of a hundred cameras and drowning in the mocking whispers of the crowd.