Chapter 2 - The Agonizing Drive to St. Jude’s
The night air of Maple Ridge was biting, but the freezing wind against my face was a welcome distraction from the agonizing throbbing in my side. I collapsed into the driver's seat of my SUV, the leather cold against my back. My hands were shaking so violently I dropped my keys twice onto the floor mat before I managed to slide them into the ignition.
I couldn't breathe. Every shallow gasp felt like a hot iron rod being pushed between my lungs.
I pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over the emergency dial, but a cold, clinical logic stopped me.
The Maple Ridge Political Web:
Sheriff's Office: Deputy Chief Miller was Daniel's second cousin.
The Mayor: Margaret’s bridge partner's husband.
The Local Hospital: Funded heavily by the "Hale Family Trust"—a trust that was currently empty but still carried their prestigious name.
If I called the local authorities now, the dispatch call would be flagged. A deputy would arrive, Daniel would play the concerned, protective husband, and Margaret would play the fragile, weeping widow. They would convince the deputy I had a "nervous breakdown" due to work stress and slipped on the stairs. I would be trapped in a local clinic under their social control before sunrise.
I dialed Marcus Vance.
Marcus was the only person in this state who knew exactly how much blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into my three dental clinics while Daniel played the role of the wealthy real estate mogul. He was a corporate shark who handled my business acquisitions, but more than that, he was a man who detested the Hales' parasitic existence.
The phone rang twice.
"Evelyn? It’s past ten. Is everything okay with the Columbus lease?" Marcus's voice was deep, steady, and instantly grounding.
"Marcus..." I choked out, a sob caught in my throat. The sudden movement of my ribs sent a wave of white-hot agony through my chest, and I screamed—a small, pathetic sound that died in the quiet cabin of the car. "Margaret... she hit me. With a baseball bat. Daniel... he just watched. I think my ribs are broken. I can't breathe."
The silence on the other end of the line was absolute. For three seconds, the only sound was the quiet hum of my car engine. When Marcus spoke again, the warm, professional tone was replaced by a deadly, freezing calm.
"Where are you right now, Evelyn?"
"In her driveway. I’m in my car."
"Listen to me very carefully," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave, commanding and sharp. "Do not go home. Daniel has keys, and if he realizes you are going to report this, he will try to corner you to stop you. I want you to put the car in drive and head south on Route 33. Drive directly to St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital in Fairfield County."
"That's... thirty miles away," I gasped, tears blurring my view of the windshield.
"It is outside of the Maple Ridge police jurisdiction," Marcus said, his voice cutting through my panic like a scalpel. "The local deputies cannot touch the reports there. I am calling the Ohio State Highway Patrol myself. I will meet you in the emergency room at St. Jude’s. Put me on speakerphone. Do not hang up this call. Do you understand me, Evelyn?"
"Yes," I whispered.
May you like
"Good. Move. Now."
I put the car in gear and hit the gas, leaving the brick colonial in my rearview mirror. Every bump in the road was a physical assault on my body, but with every mile I put between myself and Maple Ridge, the fog in my mind began to clear. I was no longer paying for peace. I was driving toward war.
