LOGINMy world felt like it was coming to an abrupt end. All I could think of in this devastating state was my baby. Addie needs to know about this. Somehow. Anyhow. For all I care, Xavier never wants to see me anymore, I wonder what he'd be feeling hearing the news about the accident. Probably happy. I hope that asshole rots in hell.
I heard floating voices above me. Through me. Around me. “ Her BP's dropping. Possible internal injuries.” I heard Marcus say. “How far along did she say she was?” Another voice asked. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The ambulance door opened. I felt myself floating into the back of the vehicle. Red and powerful white lights shone on my face. Marcus's face was above mine saying words I couldn't quite hear in the rushing in my ears. My vision blurred again. I felt a sharp pain sting my arms, and cold flooded through my veins. The high-pitched siren wails started again. This time, close…too close that it vibrated in my bones. The IV bag swayed. “Selene, we're almost there. Hold on for us”. I watched as the clear liquid dripped down the tube, and into my arms. The ambulance door flew open. Light. Bright fluorescent lights. Hands everywhere touching me. The smell of antiseptic filling the air. “ Selene Adrian, 28 year old female. Car accident, thirteen weeks pregnant, abdominal trauma.” A face appeared above me. A woman in white coat. “Selene, I'm Doctor Jay. You're at Velmont private hospital. Please stay with me. We're going to help you and your baby.” The words echoed in my head. I tried to hold her hands… “my baby. Please save my baby.” “We're going to do everything we can maa’m.” ******** My hands moved instinctively towards my stomach. The slight swell was still there, but something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. Every part of my body ached with a deep throbbing pain. Panic clawed at my chest. I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my ribs, forcing me back with gasps. “Easy… easy.” A nurse appeared at my bedside. Her face, sweet and professional. “ Don't try to move that quickly, you've been through quite an ordeal.” Mrs Adrian. The name felt foreign now. It didn't feel like mine anymore. It felt like someone else's, like someone whose life hadn't been this shattered. “Nurse my baby… please… do anything. Anything.” The words came out distorted. The nurse's expression shifted. Sympathy flooding her features. “Let me get the doctor,” she said, already moving to the door. “No. No. No. Fuck no. God please.” I cried out, tears falling down my temple. “Tell me now please.” A woman in her early fifties walked into the room. “Hi Mrs Selene, I'm doctor Jay. I've been the one overseeing your care since you were admitted.” “My baby” my voice croaked. “Mrs Selene, we're so sorry” she whispered. “The trauma. It had too much impact. The baby couldn't survive it.” She came to my bedside, holding my hands gently. “We're really sorry ma'am. It's hard, but you'll really need to take it easy on yourself. The world stopped. The beeping of the heart monitor seemed to slow. Each beat echoing in my ears like a death knell. My body is a traitor. A graveyard, a house that couldn't keep its only resident safe. The doctor's words looped in memory like a broken record. “I'm sorry” like sorry could fix anything. As if sorry could stitch back the life that tore apart inside me. As if sorry could fill the suddenly hollow space beneath my ribs. A sound tore from my throat. Raw and animalistic . It didn't sound human… I didn't feel human. I felt hollow, scooped out, absolutely nothing but a shell of pain and loss. “Mrs Selene, please you need to…stay calm. Your injuries.” I couldn't be calm. How could anyone expect me to be calm? I'd lost everything. My marriage, my family, my career is on the line and just when I thought the only thing that mattered to me most was going to stay, go. My baby. I had waited for this miracle five good fucking years and now, it's gone. Sobs wracked my body, each one sending a fresh wave of pain to my body. I didn't care. Physical pain meant nothing compared to this agony and anguish burning through my soul. The grief sits in my throat like it's glass. I'm bleeding out a future and the world keeps turning. Doctor Jay tried to be professional, but I could see right through her. She sobbed too. She nodded and retreated, leaving me alone with my grief and the beeping sounds of the machine monitoring that had failed its only job. Stupid! Tomorrow, they'd do the procedure. They'd remove what's left inside me. Make me empty in body, the same way I'd already been empty in soul. This is what loss felt like. I struggled to reach out to my phone on the bedside table. The screen was badly cracked from the accident, but still functional. I scrolled through my phone mechanically. Seventy five missed calls, over a hundred texts from Xavier, my mum, a few unknown numbers and my old mentor at my hospital where I worked. I opened Xavier's messages. “Selene, please answer, we need to talk. I'm sorry about everything. Please “ Fuck you, i mumbled beneath my breath, deleting the messages. All of them. I opened my email. The top message froze the little warmth that remained in my blood. Subject: Medical License Review Hearing “Dr Hart, based on recent allegations of medical malpractice, the medical board has scheduled an emergency hearing to review your license. You have 30 days to prepare for your defense. Failure to appear will result in automatic licence revocation.” “What the fuck.”AURORA'S POVThe coffee has gone lukewarm by the time I make it to the window. I don't drink it yet… I just stand there, one hand wrapped around the mug, watching the ocean roll toward the cliffs as if the world hasn't quietly shifted beneath my feet. Wave after wave folds into the shore, relentless, almost bored by the disasters people create for themselves. My thumb traces the rim of the cup while Elliot Crane's name lingers at the top of my contacts. Then my father drifts into my thoughts. Wednesday evenings, his familiar voice asking if I'm eating enough, if Xavier's working too hard, if we're happy. I close my eyes for a second. Two point one billion dollars that was walked away from. Three letters hidden in a drawer. A locked study, a marriage stitched together with carefully chosen silences.I set the mug on the windowsill and press my fingertips against the cool glass. Somewhere between the first Hadley letter and the third, this stopped being a business problem. It became a m
AURORA'S POVXavier's taillights disappear beyond the gates at exactly six thirty-five. By six thirty-six, I'm standing in the hallway with yesterday's coffee still in my hand, cold enough to leave a bitter film on my tongue. The study door waits at the end of the corridor, unlocked for the first time in days. It shouldn't matter...It's just a door. But my feet stop before my common sense can catch them, and I find myself staring at the brass handle like it might reach for me first. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It starts as a whisper then it starts sounding like permission.He forgot to lock it. The thought curls through me before I can stop it, pulling at the corner of my mouth. Not quite a smile but close enough to feel dangerous. I slip inside and ease the door shut behind me. The room smells like cedar, expensive cologne, and paper that's been handled more than once. Everything is exactly where it should be. Pens lined up, files stacked with impossible precision. Not a speck o
XAVIER'S POVThe Hadley deadline moved on a Thursday and I found out on a Tuesday which gave me forty-eight hours to compress the information into something I could carry without it showing, and I've gotten very good at compression, I have spent years perfecting the specific art of taking catastrophic things and reducing them to manageable-looking shapes, and sixty days is just another shape. That's what I tell myself at six-fifteen in the morning standing at the kitchen island while the coffee brews and Aurora is still asleep upstairs and the estate is quiet in the particular way that large houses are quiet when they're holding one person's secrets and calling it peace.Sixty days, not Q1. Sixty days from the date of the third Hadley letter, which puts the deadline inside the current quarter, which means Gerald's repackaged presentation needs to happen faster and needs to be better than anything we've produced before, which means I need to call Gerald this morning and tell him the ti
AURORA'S POVThe drive to the city takes about forty minutes and I spend thirty-seven of them deciding whether to stop for coffee and ultimately deciding against it because I don't want anything in my hands right now, don't want the performance of holding a cup and sipping from it and existing inside the ordinary ritual of a woman running errands on a Tuesday morning, which is what I am supposed to be today.I sit in the back of the car with my hands in my lap and I go through what I know, not what I suspect, not what I've inferred from closed doors and turned-down phones and the specific quality of a man's jaw when a call comes through at dinner. What I actually, documentably, irrefutably know is that Sterling Capital Group owes three hundred and forty million dollars to the Hadley Group. The deadline is Q1 and the board has never seen the real figures which is actually really interesting. The North star Holdings is already asking questions precise enough to have come from a document
AURORA'S POVI hear the sound of the car before I see him. That specific crunch of gravel at six forty-three, which is quite early because Xavier doesn't come home before seven-thirty on Thursdays, sometimes eight, and I'm at the kitchen counter with a glass of wine and vegetables I've been pretending to prepare, and the sound of the car stops me mid-cut.I set the knife down on the counter and take few steps to properly listen.The front door doesn't open immediately, which is the second wrong thing I've noticed and I cross to the window and look out and his car is there. The engine off, and through the windshield I can see the shape of him in the driver's seat, not moving, just sitting in the dark with his hands on the wheel and his head dropped forward slightly like the weight of it has become something he's negotiating with. He sits like that for four good minutes. Yes, I've been counting.The door finally opens and he gets out and doesn't straighten immediately the way he usually
XAVIER'S POVThe quarterly board meeting starts at nine am and I'm in the building by seven-fifteen, not because I need two hours to prepare…I've been preparing for this meeting for the past seventy-two hours in the specific way that isn't preparation so much as it is rehearsal, running the numbers through my head until the projection figures feel more real than the actual ones, until I can present them with the unforced confidence of a man stating facts rather than constructing a narrative around the facts he's chosen to state.Gerald is already in the boardroom when I arrive. He looks up from his laptop when I come in, and the look he gives me is the look he's been giving me for three days straight since the FDR and since I told him I'd handle it and then handled it by telling no one and sleeping four hours and coming in at seven-fifteen to rehearse numbers in an empty boardroom."How do you want to play the Meridian question?" he asks."There won't be any Meridian question," I say







