Chapter 4 - The Emergency Extraction
Within forty-ously minutes, the grim basement apartment was swarming with elite medical professionals.
Kenneth had bypassed local hospitals entirely, activating his private emergency medical airlift protocol. A specialized mobile ICU unit, staffed by top-tier critical care specialists from the city's premier private clinic, had converted the cramped living space into a sterile triage zone.
Clara was carefully transferred onto a heated stretcher, hooked up to an intravenous drip of advanced antibiotics and stabilizing fluids.
"Her pneumonia is at an advanced stage," the lead physician told Kenneth, stepping away from the bed for a moment while nurses adjusted the oxygen mask over Clara's face. "If she had spent forty-eight more hours in this environment without proper medication... I'm afraid her organs would have failed."
Kenneth closed his eyes, a wave of profound guilt washing over him. If he hadn't been so consumed by corporate warfare, if he had checked the lower-tier asset reports his father had filed years ago...
A small hand slipped into his large, calloused palm.
He looked down. Mia was standing beside him, clutching the corner of his coat, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.
"Is my mom going to be okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Kenneth knelt down to her eye level, placing both hands gently on her shoulders. "Listen to me, Mia. Your mother is the strongest person I have ever known. And now that I've found my family again, I am never letting anything hurt either of you. Do you understand?"
Mia nodded slowly, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Marcus," Kenneth said, standing up and turning to his bodyguard. "Ensure Mrs. Vance is transported to the executive wing of St. Jude Memorial immediately. Mobilize Dr. Henderson. I want a 24-hour specialist watch."
"Already on it, sir," Marcus replied, speaking into his encrypted comms unit as the medical team wheeled Clara out toward the building's service elevator.
As Kenneth and Mia followed the stretcher out into the cool evening air, where a private ambulance waited with lights flashing silently against the brick walls, Kenneth noticed something glinting on the pavement near the curb.
He bent down and picked it up.
May you like
It was a small, silver locket, tarnished and worn, with the initials K.V. engraved on the back. It must have fallen from Clara's neck during the transfer.
Kenneth pocketed the locket, his jaw setting into a hard, unyielding line. The past was catching up, and the people responsible for casting his sister out into the cold were going to pay.
