Chapter 6

The morning after signing the NDA, Alayna sat in her mother's hospital room, the signed agreement now locked in Jax's briefcase and on its way back to New York. Her new phone rested on the windowsill beside her-the encrypted phone Jax had given her yesterday, its screen dark for now.

Her old phone buzzed. It was Haskell-on her old number, she noted with mild surprise. He must have gotten it from Jax.

Specialist consultation. 3 PM. Dr. Evans.

The efficiency was staggering. Dr. Evans. The impossible-to-book doctor Eleonora had just told her about. So the Knight Foundation had already arranged it. Of course they had.

She rushed back to the room just as a team of doctors, led by the renowned Dr. Evans, was finishing their examination of her mother. Dr. Evans pulled Alayna aside into the hallway.

"Your mother is a strong woman," he said, his eyes kind but serious. "The tumor is aggressive, but it's operable. We have a good chance of getting it all."

Hope, bright and brilliant, surged through her. "Really?"

"But the surgery and the subsequent year of immunotherapy will be costly," he continued, his tone sobering. "You're looking at a total cost of around half a million dollars."

The hope deflated as quickly as it had appeared. The number was a physical weight, pressing down on her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She knew the Knight Foundation had agreed to cover it, but the reality of owing so much-of being so deeply indebted to a man she barely knew-settled over her like a shroud. The debt was real, and it would take years, maybe decades, to repay.

She thanked Dr. Evans and returned to her mother's room. Laura was awake, her eyes clearer than they'd been in days.

"The doctor said they can operate," Alayna told her, forcing brightness into her voice.

Laura smiled weakly. "See? I told you. I'm tougher than I look."

They talked for a while, about nothing and everything-old memories, bad TV shows, the flowers on the windowsill. When Laura drifted off to sleep, Alayna slipped into the hallway.

She walked out of the hospital, the crisp Boston air doing little to clear her head. She felt the weight of everything pressing down on her-her mother's fragile health, the half-million-dollar debt, the cold fury still simmering toward Caiden. She was playing a role now, the grateful recipient of charity, the worried daughter, the oblivious ex-girlfriend. It was exhausting.

She pulled out her old phone. Her Phase One plan required her to maintain the fiction. Keep him comfortable. Keep him blind. She'd told him her mother was fine-a scare, nothing more-and he'd accepted it. But her rage demanded an outlet, demanded some way to make him squirm even as she played the victim.

Her fingers moved across the screen.

"Caiden," she typed, "I know you said you're broke, but I'm really scared. The doctors are saying surgery might still be necessary after all. I just need to know-if it came to it, is there any way you could help? Even a little?"

She stared at the message. It was perfect. It didn't contradict her earlier lie-she'd only said it was a scare, and scares could lead to follow-ups. It fed his ego by positioning him as her potential savior. And it would force him to reiterate his refusal, giving her more evidence for the reckoning to come.

She hit send.

His reply came in less than a minute.

Alayna, I told you. I literally have nothing. My parents cut me off. I'm eating ramen every night. Why don't you try a GoFundMe? That's what normal people do in these situations.

People like you, he'd said before. Normal people. The condescension was a physical thing, a hot knife twisting in her gut. She took a screenshot and added it to her growing collection.

She walked back into the hospital, her pulse steady. Phase One was proceeding exactly as planned.

Her new phone buzzed. A text from Eleonora-waiting on her new, encrypted phone. Alayna frowned. She didn't remember giving Eleonora this number.

She opened the message.

GOOD NEWS! Just heard back from my uncle-he says someone from the Knight Foundation reached out to Dr. Evans directly! They're fast-tracking everything. Tell your mystery man I owe him one. Also, what's this new number? You change phones on me?

Alayna exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders. Of course. She must have texted Eleonora from the new phone at some point yesterday, in the blur of the transfer and the NDA signing and everything else. She'd been running on fumes. It made sense she'd forgotten in the chaos.

She typed back quickly. Long story. I'll explain later. And yes-Dr. Evans already came by. Mom's in good hands.

She pocketed both phones and returned to her mother's room. Laura was still sleeping, her face peaceful in the soft afternoon light.

Alayna sat down in the chair beside the bed and pulled out her new phone. She opened the message thread with Haskell.

Thank you, she typed. Dr. Evans says she has a good chance.

His reply came in less than a second.

No need. Get some rest.

The command was so simple, so direct. And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she actually could.