177 I only wanted to save the boy and disappear.

The hospital smelled of bleach, sharp alcohol, and warm soup.

I had never been inside a hospital before. To me, they were massive, glowing fortresses where rich people went when they got sick. The pediatric wing of Manhattan Private Hospital was different from what I imagined, though. The walls were painted with bright cartoon fish, and there were soft, plush chairs everywhere.

They had put Ethan in a large private room with a window that looked out over the glowing city skyline. He was hooked up to a machine that beeped softly, warming his blood, and he had a thick, heated blanket wrapped around him up to his chin.

They had placed me in a small chair right next to his bed. The nurses had tried to take me to a separate room to examine me, but every time they tried to move me, Ethan’s heart monitor would beep rapidly, and he would reach out his hand.

"She stays," Maxwell had told the chief of pediatrics. His tone left absolutely no room for argument.

So, they brought a hot bath, clean clothes, and a tray of food directly to the private suite's bathroom for me.

I stood in front of the large mirror in the bathroom, staring at myself. The girl in the glass looked like a stranger. The dirt had been washed from my cheeks, revealing pale skin and a small splash of freckles across my nose. My tangled, dark hair had been combed out by a kind nurse who had wept quietly while doing it. I was wearing a pair of soft, oversized gray sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that smelled like clean lavender.

On the counter sat a plate of chicken fingers, french fries, and a tall glass of sweet apple juice.

I didn't eat it with a fork. I used my hands, cramming the food into my mouth as fast as I could, my eyes constantly darting toward the door. On the streets, if you didn't eat your food in thirty seconds, someone bigger took it.

"Take your time, Lily," a voice said softly.

I jumped, dropping a fry onto the clean tile floor. Maxwell was standing in the doorway. He had taken off his suit jacket, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked tired, with deep dark circles under his eyes, but his expression was incredibly gentle.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, reaching down to grab the dropped fry. "I'll clean it."

"No, no, it's alright," Maxwell said quickly, stepping in and stopping my hand. "You don't have to clean anything. And you don't have to rush. That food is yours. There is as much of it as you want."

I looked at him, my brow furrowing. "Why are you being nice to me? People aren't nice for free."

Maxwell’s chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. He leaned against the sink, looking down at me. "Usually, you'd be right, Lily. The world can be a very cruel place. But you saved my son's life tonight. If you hadn't found him, if you hadn't given him your coat... the doctors said he wouldn't have survived the night. I owe you everything. A father’s gratitude has no price."

I chewed slowly, trying to understand. "Is Jennifer going to jail?"

"Yes," Maxwell said, his face hardening for a fraction of a second. "She is. She will never be near my son, or you, ever again."

"But she's rich," I pointed out, my voice flat. "Rich people don't stay in jail. I saw a man in a nice suit hit a street vendor once. The police came, but the man just gave them a shiny card, and they let him go."

"I am much richer than Jennifer," Maxwell said quietly. "And I will spend every penny I have to make sure she stays behind bars."

Before I could answer, the door to the hospital room opened. A man in a sharp gray suit stepped inside, holding a leather briefcase. He looked nervous, his eyes shifting between Maxwell and me.

"Mr. Blackwood," the man whispered. "We have a problem."

Maxwell stepped out of the bathroom, and I followed him slowly, keeping close to the shadow of his long legs.

"What is it, Harrison?" Maxwell asked, his voice returning to that cold, business-like tone.

"Jennifer’s father, Senator Vance, has already caught wind of the arrest," Harrison said, lowering his voice, though Ethan was fast asleep under the warm blankets. "He’s calling in favors. They are already spinning a narrative to the media. They’re going to claim that Jennifer was hijacked in the park by a street gang, and that they took Ethan. They are claiming you are using... this girl," Harrison pointed a finger at me, "as a prop to stage a custody battle and ruin his daughter's reputation."

My heart hammered against my ribs. There it is, I thought. The trap.

"They’re saying she’s part of the gang," Harrison continued, his voice trembling slightly. "The Senator’s lawyers are already filing an emergency petition with Child Protective Services. They want Lily arrested as an accomplice, or at least removed to a secure juvenile facility immediately to 'protect the integrity of the investigation.'"

I felt the room grow cold. My hands began to shake. I looked toward the window, calculating how high up we were. If I could get to the fire escape...

"Let them try," Maxwell whispered.

The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Maxwell stood tall, his chest expanding as he glared at his attorney.

"Mr. Blackwood, the Senator has immense influence over the local precinct—"

"And I own the bank that holds the mortgage on the Senator's campaign headquarters," Maxwell said, his voice dangerously calm. "I want our security team at the door of this room. No one enters. No social workers, no police officers, no one unless they have a warrant signed by a federal judge. And Harrison?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Call the Governor. Tell him that if a single hand touches Lily tonight, I will pull all funding for the state development projects by tomorrow morning. Let's see how much the Senator’s influence is worth when the city's budget collapses."

Harrison swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. "I... I'll make the calls immediately, sir."

Maxwell turned back to me. He knelt down, taking both of my small, cold hands in his.

"Lily, look at me," he said.