Chapter 4

The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering softly on the blanket.

Devastation washed over me, a cold, crushing wave.

But beneath it, something else stirred. A flicker of anger, then a harder, colder resolve.

She wouldn't break me. They wouldn't win.

My mind, the architect's mind, the one capable of intricate planning, started working.

I needed help. I needed David.

David Chen. My best friend since our scholarship days at MIT. A tech investor now, brilliant, resourceful, and fiercely loyal. He was more a brother than a friend.

The next morning, when the nurse came to help me with my useless legs, I asked for my phone.

"Need to let my best man know what's happened," I said, trying to sound weak, defeated.

Izzy was out, "making arrangements," she'd said with a sympathetic smile.

I dialed David's number.

He picked up on the second ring. "Ethan! Man, I've been trying to reach you. Izzy's assistant just said you had a minor accident. What the hell happened?"

"David," I kept my voice low, urgent. "It's bad. It's really bad. I need you."

I told him everything. The hit-and-run. The overheard conversations. The vasectomy. The phone. Marcus. Lily. The entire monstrous plan.

Silence on the other end. Then, a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush.

"That bitch," he finally seethed. "I never trusted her. Ethan, I'm on the next flight."

"No, David. Not yet. I need you to do something else first. Something big."

I outlined my idea. A new identity. A disappearance. The best spinal surgeons in the world, wherever they were.

"Germany," David said immediately. "There's a clinic there, cutting edge. Reconstructive spinal surgery. I know a guy who knows a guy."

"And the other thing?" I asked. "Faking my death?"

"Consider it done," David said, his voice grim but determined. "She wants you gone? We'll make you a ghost. But a ghost who can walk again."

A sliver of hope, the first I'd felt in days, cut through the despair.

A few days later, Izzy came into my room, Dr. Finch trailing behind her.

She held a sheaf of papers. "Ethan, darling. Dr. Finch has the final reports."

Her face was a mask of sorrow.

"The damage from the accident... it's affected more than just your spine."

She paused, taking my hand. "There's... there's an issue with your fertility, my love. It seems you won't be able to father children."

Dr. Finch looked at the floor.

I looked at Izzy, letting tears well in my eyes. I was getting good at this acting thing.

"No," I whispered, choking on a sob. "It can't be."

"I'm so sorry, Ethan," Izzy said, pulling me into a hug. "But it doesn't change anything between us. We still have Lily. We can adopt her, give her our name. Our family."

I clung to her, burying my face in her shoulder, playing the broken man.

"Yes," I cried. "Yes, of course. Lily. She'll be our daughter."

Izzy sighed, a sound of profound relief.

"Oh, Ethan. You're so strong, so understanding."

She pulled back, smiling through her own fake tears. "To show you my unwavering commitment, my love, I'm transferring a substantial portfolio of Rossi assets into your name. A safety net. For us. For our future."

A golden cage.

I nodded, wiping my eyes. "Thank you, Izzy. That's... incredibly generous."