Chapter 3

"How could she?" Grandma wept, her voice thick with anguish. "How could she choose a shopping trip over her own son?"

Dad just stared at the photo, his face ashen.

The doctor returned. "Mr. Carter, we can't wait any longer. We have to try something, but without Dr. Vance... the chances are slim."

Dad nodded, numb.

He made one last call to Mom' s phone. It rang. She picked up.

"Mark, I told you, we're busy!" Eleanor' s voice was sharp, irritated.

Chloe was in the background, "Mom, tell him we' ll call later. My massage is starting soon."

A massage. While Sam was dying.

"Eleanor," Dad' s voice was dangerously calm. "Sam is dying. The doctors say you are his only chance. If you are not on the next flight back, you may not see him alive again."

There was a pause. I could almost hear Chloe whispering in her ear.

"Mark, you' re being manipulated by Lily," Eleanor said, her voice cold. "She' s always been jealous of Chloe. This is just another one of her stunts to get attention and ruin our trip. I' ll talk to you when I get back tomorrow as planned."

Click. She hung up.

Dad stared at his phone, his hand trembling.

The other family members looked at each other, their initial worry for Sam now mixed with a dawning, horrified understanding of Eleanor' s callousness.

My grandparents, who had always tried to mediate, to see the good in Eleanor, looked utterly betrayed.

I watched them, a strange calm settling over me.

This time, the blame wouldn't stick to me. They were seeing her for who she truly was.

The hours crawled by.

We sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken grief and rising anger.

Every few minutes, Dad or Grandpa would try Mom' s phone. Straight to voicemail. She'd blocked them, or turned it off again.

Finally, the surgeon came out, his scrubs stained, his shoulders slumped.

He didn't need to say anything.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice gentle. "We did everything we could. He's gone."

Grandma let out a wail that tore through the sterile silence of the hospital.

Dad just sat there, his body shaking, silent tears streaming down his face.

Then, a raw, guttural sound escaped him, a sound of pure agony and rage.

"She killed him," he choked out, his voice hoarse. "Eleanor killed our son."

The words hung in the air, an undeniable truth.