Chapter 7 - The Longest Night
I spent the next forty-eight hours living out of a small armchair in room 412 of St. Jude’s Charity Hospital.
The noise of the city felt a million miles away. The media was buzzing outside the hospital gates, kept at bay by a perimeter of private security guards and NYPD officers, but inside the room, time seemed to stand still.
Maya slept peacefully on a small cot set up beside her mother’s bed.
Dr. Aris had transferred a team of top neurosurgeons from Manhattan Presbyterian to oversee Emily’s recovery. They had performed a delicate two-hour surgery to relieve pressure on her brain, and now all we could do was wait.
At three o'clock in the morning on the third day, the mechanical rhythmic beep of the heart monitor suddenly changed tempo.
I snapped awake instantly.
Emily’s fingers twitched against the white sheet. Her eyelashes fluttered, dark brown brows furrowing as if trying to push through a thick, heavy fog.
I stood up immediately, leaning over the bed. “Em?”
A soft, raspy groan escaped her lips. Her eyes slowly opened, unfocusing at first, squinting against the dim yellow light of the nightstand.
She turned her head slowly, her blue-gray eyes locking onto mine.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke. The silence was thick with nine years of unexpressed pain, unanswered questions, and enduring grief.
“Vincent...?” she rasped, her voice barely a whisper.
Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. I reached out, gently taking her hand in mine, feeling the faint warmth of her pulse beneath her skin.
“I’m here, Em,” I choked out. “I’m right here.”
Emily’s gaze shifted past me, her eyes widening with sudden panic. “Maya... where is Maya? Did she... did she find you?”
“She’s right here,” I reassured her softly, gesturing toward the cot where Maya lay sleeping peacefully beneath a fleece blanket. “She came to Moretti Tower three days ago. She gave me the ring, Em. She saved your life.”
Emily closed her eyes, a long, shuttering sob escaping her chest as tears streamed down her temples into her dark hair.
“I’m so sorry, Vincent,” she wept rasped out. “I tried to stay away... I swore I would never come back to New York... but three months ago I got sick... and then Sophia’s men found out where we were living...”
“Shh,” I whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. “You don't have to apologize for anything. Sophia Bennett is in jail. My mother has been removed from the company. It’s over, Em. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
May you like
Emily looked up at me, her blue-gray eyes searching my face with profound disbelief. “You... you know the truth?”
“I know everything,” I said, pulling the gold ring from my pinky finger and placing it gently back into her palm. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
