Chapter 2

Late that night, a cramp twisted through my lower belly.

I rolled off the bed and curled up on the carpet, my nightgown soaked through with cold sweat.

Acute gastroenteritis. It had finally caught up with me.

With shaking hands, I dialed Ezra.

It rang for a long time before he picked up.

On the other end came deafening music and a wall of noise.

"Hello?" His voice was thick with impatience. "I'm out with a client, going over a project. What is it?"

"I... my stomach hurts..."

The pain was so bad I could barely finish a sentence.

"You're sick. Go find some medicine, or order some for delivery. This is really important right now. Hanging up."

The line went dead, clean and quick.

I stared at the black phone screen, my own pale, wrecked face reflected back at me.

I pushed myself up against the wall and called for an ambulance myself.

The emergency room reeked of disinfectant.

Cold fluid crept down the IV line, dripping into me bit by bit.

I lay on the bed in the observation room, drifting in and out.

Somewhere between sleep and waking, I heard a familiar laugh coming from the VIP room next door.

It was Ezra.

His voice was low, gentle in that way you'd use to coax a child.

"Okay, okay, you just twisted your ankle, the bone's fine. Stop crying. Look at you, all swollen up like a little piglet's foot."

Then a woman's voice, thick with tears and a whining, coaxing lilt.

"Ezra, you're the best... good thing you got here fast, or I'd have been all alone at the office, hurting so bad, scared out of my mind..."

It was Pearl.

A nurse pushed a cart past my bed, and I caught her sleeve.

"Excuse me, the room next door... what's the patient in for?"

The nurse made a face, the look of someone who'd seen it all.

"A young woman twisted her ankle on the stairs at her office. Her boss was beside himself, carried her in himself, ran a bunch of red lights on the way. Booked her a specialist, got a CT scan, practically had us call the hospital director in for a consult." She shook her head. "We thought it was a fracture. Turned out to be a mild sprain."

She walked off, still shaking her head.

My heart sank.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Ezra.

"Baby, still tied up here, can't get away. Be a good girl on your own. Love you."

A little kissing emoji trailed after it.

I opened his feed.

Ten minutes ago, Ezra had posted something set to a group only I could see.

"Our little trooper works too hard. Sprained her ankle and still won't stop. She's earned a real reward."

The photo showed him in the VIP room, carefully icing Pearl's ankle.

His head was bent, expression focused.

Her foot rested on his knee, her other hand holding up a phone to snap a selfie of the two of them.

She was flashing a peace sign at the camera, grinning wide and pleased with herself.

Quietly, I screenshotted that post, along with the message he'd sent me.

Just then, the phone buzzed again.

A new email.

From my mentor.

"Greta, welcome back. Your spot has been waiting for you this whole time. Monday, the national key laboratory. We'll be expecting you."

I read that last line, and the tears fell without warning.

I sat up sharply and pulled the needle from my hand.

A bead of blood welled at the puncture point, but I couldn't feel it.

"Hey, what are you doing! Your IV isn't finished!"

The nurse's alarmed cry rose behind me.

I walked straight to the nurses' station and checked myself out.

Smiling, I said to the nurse:

"Could you do me a favor? When the gentleman in the VIP room next door leaves, remind him that his girlfriend's bed fee over here in the general ward hasn't been settled."

"Just leave the bill on his table. Thank you."

I didn't look back to see the nurse's stunned face. I walked straight out of the hospital.