Richard lingered for a second, looking at Evelyn. I really am sorry, Eve, he mumbled. Save it for the bankruptcy court, Richard. Evelyn replied, staring straight ahead. Richard frowned, confused by the comment, but turned and followed his mother. The heavy door clicked shut, leaving Evelyn alone with the hum of the medical equipment.
Evelyn waited exactly 10 seconds. Then she shifted Leo to her left arm and reached for the cheap cracked smartphone on the bedside table, the burner phone she used for her life as a housewife. She ignored it and reached into the hidden lining of her diaper bag, pulling out a sleek black satellite phone that looked like a piece of military hardware. She dialed a single number.
“This is Sebastian.” A crisp British voice answered on the first ring. “Sbastian,” Evelyn said, her voice strong and commanding. “Code red. The facade is over. Initiate protocol Phoenix.” There was a pause on the other end followed by the sound of typing. Understood, Mom. I see your GPS is active at St. Jude’s.
Congratulations on the birth. Shall I assume the Thornton family was unsatisfactory? They handed me divorce papers in the recovery room, Sebastian, Evelyn said dryly. And they offered me $10,000 to disappear. 10,000. Sebastian sounded genuinely offended. That wouldn’t cover your shoe budget for a week, Mom. Exactly. Come get me.
And Sebastian, bring the rolls. The Phantom. I’m done hiding. An hour later, the rain was coming down in sheets, turning the world outside St. Jude’s Hospital into a gray, watery blur. Beatrice had been true to her word. Two Burly hospital security guards were standing by the door of Evelyn’s room, tapping their feet impatiently.
“M Sterling,” one of them said, looking uncomfortable. “Mrs. Thornton gave strict orders. You have to vacate the premises. The room is no longer paid for.” Evelyn had dressed in the only clothes she had, a pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. She wrapped Leo tightly in the hospital blanket, shielding him from the draft.
She stood up, wincing slightly at the pain in her abdomen, but she refused to show weakness. “I’m leaving,” Evelyn said coolly. “Don’t touch my bag.” She walked past them, head held high, carrying her son through the sterile corridors. Nurses whispered as she passed. Beatrice had made a scene at the nurse’s station, apparently telling everyone that Evelyn was a surrogate gone rogue who was trying to extort the family.
The eyes following her were full of judgment. “Let them look,” Evelyn thought. “They’ll be working for me by tomorrow.” She pushed through the automatic sliding doors and was hit by a wall of humid, cold air. The rain was relentless. There was no awning at this exit, the service exit Beatatrice had instructed security to direct her to.
Evelyn stood under the meager shelter of the doorframe, clutching Leo. Across the parking lot, she saw Richard’s silver Mercedesspeeding away, splashing mud onto the sidewalk. He hadn’t even waited to see if she got a taxi. “Pathetic,” she muttered. Suddenly, the rhythmic thrum thrum of a powerful engine cut through the sound of the rain.
A collective gasp went up from the few people smoking cigarettes near the entrance. Gliding through the rain like a panther was a Rolls-Royce Phantom painted in a custom matte black finish. It was a vehicle that screamed power, wealth, and exclusivity. It moved silently, ignoring the ambulanceonly lane markings, and pulled up directly in front of Evelyn.
