Chapter 2

The world was a mess of sirens and muffled voices. I was trapped, hanging by my seatbelt, the taste of blood thick in my mouth. The pain in my head was a throbbing, relentless beast.

"We need to get him out now!" a voice shouted from somewhere outside the mangled frame of my car.

They cut me free. I remember the rough hands of the paramedics, the bright, disorienting lights, and the short, chaotic ride to the hospital. Every bump in the road sent a fresh wave of agony through me.

In the emergency room, the chaos continued. A nurse was trying to get an IV into my arm while a doctor shone a light into my eyes.

"He' s got a severe concussion, possible internal bleeding," the doctor said. "And look at this on his face. Two distinct puncture wounds, significant swelling, and necrosis starting. What bit him?"

"He was mumbling something about a spider," a paramedic replied.

Just then, my phone, the old one, started ringing from the plastic bag of my belongings a nurse had collected. She answered it.

"Oceanville General ER... Yes, he' s here."

She held the phone to my ear. It was Chloe.

"Ethan? Are you still alive?" Her voice was casual, almost bored.

"Chloe..." I managed to croak. "Why?"

"You brought this on yourself," she said, her voice turning sharp. "Trying to manipulate me with some fake brain tumor story. You' re pathetic. Mark and I have connections at this hospital. We know the chief of staff. Don' t think you can just check yourself in and run up a bill on my account."

A doctor, an older man with a tired face, took the phone. "Ma' am, this is Dr. Wallace. Your husband is in critical condition. We need to administer antivenom immediately, and he requires an MRI for a severe head injury."

"My husband?" Chloe laughed. "He' s not my husband. I don' t know who you' re talking about. He' s probably some homeless guy who stole a phone. Don' t bother treating him. He' s not worth the resources."

She hung up.

Dr. Wallace looked at me, then at the nurse. His expression hardened. "Forget the call. Let' s get him to imaging, and get the antivenom prepped. I don' t care who he is."

But before they could move my gurney, a man in an expensive suit walked in. He had a slick, confident air about him. It was Mark Jensen.

He walked right up to Dr. Wallace. "I' m Mark Jensen. I believe my... fiancée... just called. She was concerned about a man who has been harassing her. This man, Ethan Miller."

He gestured at me with a flick of his wrist.

"He has a history of erratic behavior, faking illnesses for attention. Chloe is terrified of him. We have a restraining order in process."

Dr. Wallace stood his ground. "Mr. Jensen, restrain-ing order or not, this man is seriously injured. He was in a major car accident and has an envenomated bite on his face. He needs immediate care."

Mark smiled, a thin, predatory smile. "Doctor, I am a major benefactor of this hospital. The new pediatric wing? That' s my foundation. I' m sure you understand that the well-being and peace of mind of my family are very important. We can' t have this man causing a scene."

He leaned in closer. "Perhaps he can be... stabilized and transferred to a public clinic? I' ll even cover the ambulance fee. A gesture of goodwill."

Dr. Wallace' s face went pale. The power dynamic in the room shifted instantly. The nurses looked away, suddenly busy with other tasks.

Chloe walked in then, Liam holding her hand. Liam saw me on the gurney, bruised and bleeding, and a cruel little smile played on his lips.

"Does it hurt, Ethan?" Chloe asked, her voice sweet as poison. "You look terrible. But you' re a great actor, I' ll give you that. All this just to make me feel guilty."

Liam pointed at my swollen, discolored cheek. "Spidey did a good job! Did the car do a good job too, Mommy?"

"Yes, baby," Chloe cooed, stroking his hair. "They did a very good job."

I tried to push myself up, a surge of adrenaline cutting through the pain. "Chloe... you can' t... I' m dying..."

My voice was a ragged plea, a desperate cry for a shred of the humanity she once had.

She just stared at me, her eyes empty of anything but ice. "Then die," she said, her voice flat. "Stop being so theatrical about it."

At that moment, a woman in a doctor' s coat walked into the curtained-off area. She had sharp, intelligent eyes and a no-nonsense expression. She looked at my chart, then at me, then at the scene unfolding.

"What is going on here?" she asked, her voice cutting through the tension. "I' m Dr. Reed. This is my patient. Why isn' t he in the ICU?"

Dr. Wallace stammered, "Dr. Reed... Mr. Jensen here was just explaining..."

Dr. Evelyn Reed didn' t even glance at Mark. Her focus was entirely on me. She gently touched the area around the bite, her fingers light and professional.

"This is Loxosceles reclusa venom," she said, her voice firm and confident. "Brown recluse. Highly necrotic. He should have had the antivenom twenty minutes ago. And his pupil response is sluggish. He needs a CT scan and an MRI, now."

Mark stepped forward, his charm offensive at the ready. "Dr. Reed, I' m Mark Jensen. There' s been a misunderstanding..."

She finally turned to look at him, her gaze withering. "The only misunderstanding, Mr. Jensen, is that you seem to think a donation to this hospital gives you the right to interfere with patient care. Get out of my ER."

Mark' s face flushed with anger. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know you' re a man standing between my patient and the treatment that could save his life," she shot back. "So I' ll say it again. Get out. Now."

She turned to two large orderlies who had been watching from a distance. "Escort Mr. Jensen and his... companions... out of the hospital. They are not to be permitted back into the patient treatment areas."

Chloe' s face twisted in fury. "You' ll regret this! You' ll be fired by morning!"

Dr. Reed ignored her completely. She turned back to me, her expression softening slightly. "Don' t worry, Mr. Miller. We' re going to take care of you."

As the orderlies began to herd a protesting Chloe, Mark, and a whining Liam toward the exit, Mark turned back one last time. He caught my eye and mouthed two words with perfect clarity.

You' re dead.

The promise hung in the air long after he was gone. But for the first time that day, as Dr. Reed and her team rushed me towards the ICU, I felt a flicker of something I thought I' d lost forever.

Hope.