Chapter 3: The Empty Bed
"Where is she?"
Ethan’s voice thundered through the bakery. The manager nervously wiped down the counter, avoiding eye contact with the billionaire. "Mr. Sterling, she didn't come in for her shift. She left a note saying she was moving."
Ethan’s blood ran cold. Moving? He dialed her number for the fiftieth time. The number you have reached is no longer in service.
Panic, thick and suffocating, gripped his chest. It was happening again. The exact same nightmare from twenty years ago. He was nine years old again, staring at an empty hospital bed, being told that the only person who mattered was just gone.
He drove to her apartment. Empty. He hired the best private investigators in the city. Nothing. It was as if Lily Parker had vanished into thin air.
Three weeks passed. The Sterling Corporation stabilized, the media moved on to the next scandal, and Ethan became a ghost of himself. He worked relentlessly, sleeping in his office, speaking to no one unless it was strictly business. He fired his mother from the board of directors, severing all ties with her after discovering she had visited the bakery the day Lily disappeared.
Then, on a rainy Tuesday, an unexpected visitor arrived at his office.
Vanessa.
She stood in the doorway of his office, looking entirely different from the day of their broken engagement. She wore a simple trench coat, her demeanor calm.
"I shouldn't be here," Vanessa said, taking a seat uninvited. "But I have something you need to see. My family still has connections in the private medical sector."
She slid a manila folder across his mahogany desk.
"What is this?" Ethan asked, his voice hoarse.
"I know your mother, Ethan. I know how she operates," Vanessa said softly. "I didn't like being humiliated at my own engagement party, but I don't believe in cruelty. Your mother forced Lily out. But that's not why Lily left."
Ethan ripped open the folder. It was a medical admission form. St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital. Patient: Lily Parker. Admitted: Two weeks ago.
"She’s sick, Ethan," Vanessa said quietly. "She thought she was protecting you."
Ethan didn't hear the rest of her sentence. He was already out the door.
The drive to St. Jude’s was a blur of rain, traffic, and agonizing terror. He abandoned his car at the emergency entrance, sprinting through the automatic doors. The smell of disinfectant hit him like a physical blow, dragging him back to his childhood trauma.
"Lily Parker," he demanded at the front desk, his chest heaving, his suit drenched in rain. "Where is she?"
The nurse typed slowly into the computer. "Sir, are you family?"
"I'm her fiancé," he lied, his voice breaking. "Please. Tell me where she is."
"Room 412. Oncology wing."
Oncology. The word felt like a bullet. He ran toward the elevators, but they were taking too long. He found the stairwell and took the steps three at a time. His mind was racing, bargaining with the universe. Take my company. Take every dollar I have. Just let her be alive. Please.
He burst through the doors of the fourth floor. The corridor was long, white, and agonizingly quiet. He counted the numbers. 408. 410.
The door was slightly ajar. Ethan pushed it open, his breath hitching in his throat. He braced himself for the monitors, the tubes, the pale face of the woman he loved.
But the room was silent. The bed was perfectly made. And it was entirely, devastatingly empty.
A nurse walked past carrying a chart. She stopped when she saw Ethan standing in the doorway, staring at the empty bed with a look of absolute despair.
"Excuse me, sir?" the nurse said gently. "Are you looking for the patient in 412?"
May you like
Ethan couldn't speak. He could only nod, tears finally spilling over his eyelashes, mixing with the rain on his face. He had been too late. Just like when he was a child. He was too late.
"Oh," the nurse smiled gently. "She’s not here."
