Chapter 8 - The Desperate GambleUpstairs in the hospital, Willa woke with a violent start.
The heart monitors beside her bed were beeping steadily, but her chest felt tight, constricted by an overwhelming, suffocating wave of premonition. She pulled off her light hospital blanket, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and gasped as a sharp, tearing pain ripped across her recent C-section incision.
She bit her lower lip so hard she tasted copper, tears springing to her eyes, but she refused to stop. She grabbed her discarded hospital robe, wrapped it tightly around her waist, and staggered out of the room into the dimly lit hallway.
The nurses' station was empty—the night staff was clustered down the hall managing an emergency in room 412.
Willa limped down the corridor, gripping the wall for support, her bare feet padding softly against the cold linoleum floor until she reached the visitor elevators. She punched the call button repeatedly with a trembling finger.
Come on. Come on!
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. She stepped inside, pressed the button for the ground floor, and pulled out her burner phone—the one Nathan had given her for emergency communication only.
She dialed his number.
Ring... ring... ring... voicemail.
“Nathan, pick up,” she sobbed into the receiver as the elevator descended rapidly. “Nathan, please... I know you went to The Apex. Adrian knows you’re there. Please answer me!”
No answer. The line went straight to dead air.
Willa stepped out of the elevator into the quiet, rain-drenched hospital lobby, ignoring the night security guard who shouted out from his desk, “Ma'am! You shouldn't be out of bed—what are you doing?”
She didn't stop. She pushed through the heavy glass doors out into the pouring rain, spotting a idling taxi waiting at the emergency drop-off zone. She wrenched the back door open and threw herself inside.
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“Take me to The Apex,” she gasped, holding her bleeding abdomen with one hand and shoving a crumpled hundred-dollar bill through the partition with the other. “Downtown. Right now. If you get me there in ten minutes, I’ll give you everything else in my wallet.”
The driver took one look at her pale, tear-stained face, the hospital gown visible beneath her robe, and slammed his foot on the accelerator.
