I don't like her.

The sentence echoed in her head, overlapping with the memory of the child she had lost. The child she thought had died in the chaos of her departure six years ago. If her baby had lived, he would be exactly Jamin's age.

She turned back.

Jamin was still there, looking at his shiny black shoes.

"Hey," she said softly.

His head snapped up. Hope flared in those dark eyes.

"You said your dad has headaches?" she asked, crouching down to his eye level again.

"Yeah," Jamin nodded vigorously. "Super bad ones. He locks himself in the dark room. He thinks I don't know, but I hear him groaning."

He reached into his tiny jacket pocket and pulled out a card. It wasn't a business card. It was a black American Express Centurion card.

"I can pay you," he said earnestly, holding it out with two hands. "I have lots of money. I can buy the whole hospital if you want."

Giselle stared at the heavy titanium card. It was absurd. It was heartbreaking.

"Put that away," she said gently, pushing his hand back. "I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?" he asked, desperate. "I have a limited edition Optimus Prime?"

She smiled behind her mask. "Keep your robot. I just want you to promise not to run away from your guards again."

He nodded solemnly.

"Okay," she sighed. "I'll take a look at his chart. That's it. No promises."

Jamin squealed and threw his arms around her neck. He smelled like baby shampoo and sugar. He planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her masked cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Her heart squeezed. She stood up and took his hand. "Where is he?"

"VIP floor. The penthouse suite," Jamin said, tugging her toward the elevators.

We stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut, enclosing them in a mirrored box.

Giselle looked at their reflection. The tall woman in the white coat, the small boy in the suit. There was something... harmonious about it. The curve of his jaw, the way he stood.

Stop it, she scolded herself. He is Joseph's son. He is the son of the man who ruined you.

But as the numbers on the display ticked upward-2, 3, 4... P-her anxiety wasn't about the past. It was about the immediate future.

She was about to walk into a room with Joseph Villarreal.

She hadn't seen him in six years. She had seen photos in magazines, of course. He looked colder, harder. More ruthless. Rumor had it he was injured during a hostile takeover attempt in Europe-a car bomb that should have killed him.

"Does your dad know you're bringing a doctor?" she asked.

Jamin bit his lip. "Um. Not exactly. He hates doctors. He throws things at them."

"Great," she muttered. "So I'm walking into a lion's den."

"Don't worry," Jamin squeezed her hand. "I'll protect you."

The elevator chimed. The doors opened to the VIP floor.

Two massive bodyguards stood at the end of the hall. They saw Jamin and relaxed visibly, then tensed again when they saw Giselle.

"Master Jamin," one of them said into his wrist mic. "We found him. He's with... a doctor."

Giselle took a deep breath. The air up here smelled different. Expensive. Sanitized.

"Come on," Jamin whispered.

She tightened her grip on his hand. She adjusted her glasses. She was Dr. Mandy. She was the heir to the Hines dynasty. She was not the scared girl in the rain anymore.

She could do this.

---

"Where is he?" Joseph growled, his voice rasping.

Kieran, his assistant, looked nervous. "Security says he's coming up the elevator now, Sir. He... he has a guest."

"A guest?" Joseph squinted, the pain flaring behind his eyes. "I told you, no visitors."

"He says it's a doctor, Sir."

Joseph let out a harsh breath. "Another quack? Get rid of them."

"But Sir-"

"Dean!" Joseph shouted.

Dean Williams, the hospital director, scurried in from the hallway. "Yes, Mr. Villarreal?"

"My son is wandering your hospital soliciting medical advice from strangers. Control your staff."

"I'm sorry, Sir. We're trying to locate-"

Out in the hallway, Jamin was practically dragging Giselle.

"It's right here," he whispered, pointing to the double doors at the end of the hall.

Giselle's palms were sweating inside her latex gloves. She could hear voices inside. Low, angry voices.

Then, a phone rang.

Jamin jumped. It was his smartwatch. He tapped the screen. "Hello?"

He put it on speaker.

"Jamin," a voice boomed from the watch. "Get in here. Now."

Giselle stopped dead.

The sound of that voice. It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical sensation. It vibrated through her bones, waking up ghosts she thought she had buried. It was deeper than she remembered, rougher, laced with pain, but unmistakably him.

Joseph.

"Daddy!" Jamin chirped into the watch. "I found her! I found Dr. Mandy! She's right here!"

Silence on the other end. Then, Joseph's voice, cold and suspicious. "Dr. Mandy? The one who refuses to see anyone?"

"Yes! She's super pretty and she smells nice!"

"Jamin," Joseph warned. "Step away from her. It's a trick."

Giselle felt like she had been slapped. A trick. Even now, without seeing her, he assumed the worst. The years hadn't changed him. He was still the man who saw plots in every shadow.

She looked down at Jamin. He was looking up at her with pure adoration. "Come on, pretty lady."

She pulled her hand away.

Jamin looked confused. "Dr. Mandy?"

Panic, cold and sharp, flooded her system. She couldn't do this. She couldn't face him. Not like this. Not when he thought she was a con artist. Not when Jamin was... his son with someone else.

The reality of Jamin's parentage hit her again. He was proof that Joseph had moved on. Proof that he had a life, a family, without her.

"I can't," she whispered. Her voice trembled.

Inside the room, Joseph heard the hesitation through the speaker. "Who is there?" he demanded. The voice on the other end-that whisper-it sounded like a ghost.

Giselle backed away. Her heel caught the wheel of a cleaning cart parked against the wall.

CRASH.

A metal bucket fell, clattering loudly on the tile floor.

"Who is that?" Joseph's voice turned predatory. "Kieran, open the door!"

"No," Giselle gasped.

She turned around. She didn't walk. She ran.

Her white coat flapped behind her as she sprinted toward the stairwell.

"Wait!" Jamin cried out behind her. "Don't go!"

She didn't look back. She burst through the stairwell door just as the VIP suite doors flew open.

---

He lunged for the door.

"Sir!" Kieran shouted, trying to grab his arm.

Joseph shoved him aside with a growl. He threw the heavy doors open.

The hallway was empty, save for a stunned Jamin standing by a tipped-over cleaning cart.

"Where is she?" Joseph barked.

Jamin pointed a trembling finger toward the stairwell door that was slowly clicking shut. "She ran away."

Joseph didn't wait. He sprinted, his bare feet slapping against the cold floor. He hit the stairwell door with his shoulder, bursting into the concrete echo chamber.

He looked down the spiral of stairs.

Three floors down, he saw a flash of white. A figure moving fast. Too fast for a normal doctor.

"Stop!" he roared. His voice echoed off the concrete walls.

The figure didn't stop. If anything, she sped up.

Joseph gripped the railing, ready to vault over, to chase her down. But then, the pain returned. It hit him like a sledgehammer to the temple. His vision blurred, turning into a kaleidoscope of black spots. His broken ribs screamed in protest, forcing him to double over.

He swayed, his knees buckling. He gripped the railing to keep from falling.

"Dammit," he hissed through gritted teeth.

Kieran and two bodyguards burst into the stairwell behind him. "Mr. Villarreal!"

"Lock it down," Joseph gasped, clutching his head. "Lock down the hospital. No one leaves."

Three floors down.

Giselle heard the order. Lock down.

Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might explode. She reached the ground floor landing. She couldn't go out the main lobby; they would be watching.

She ripped off her white coat and shoved it into a trash chute. She pulled the pins out of her hair, letting the long, honey-brown waves fall over her shoulders. She took off her glasses and shoved them in her pocket.

She stepped out into the busy waiting room near the pharmacy.

"Attention please," the PA system announced. "We are initiating a Code Yellow. All exits are temporarily restricted for a security check."

Panic flared in the crowd. People started murmuring.

Giselle lowered her head. She spotted a service corridor labeled 'Authorized Personnel Only'. She pulled out a sleek, black keycard-a universal pass courtesy of Hines technologies-and swiped it.

The lock clicked green.

"Miss?" a guard called out from across the hall, spotting the movement.

Giselle didn't hesitate. She slipped through the door and let it slam shut. She was in the loading dock.

A black sedan was already idling by the waste disposal units, its engine purring softly. My brother Asher was behind the wheel.

Giselle dove into the back seat. "Go. Now."

Asher floored it. The car screeched away from the curb just as Joseph's head of security burst out the hospital rear doors, scanning the street.

Giselle slumped against the leather seat, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Did you see him?" Asher asked, looking in the rearview mirror. His eyes were tight with worry.

"I heard him," she whispered. "He's looking for me."

Back in the stairwell, Joseph sat on the steps, breathing heavily. The pain was receding to a dull throb.

He closed his eyes. That silhouette. The way she ran. The curve of her neck.

It was impossible. She was gone. She was a fraud who had disappeared into the gutter.

But his gut... his gut told him something else.

"Find that woman," Joseph said to Kieran, his voice low and deadly. "I don't care what it takes. Find her."

---