Chapter 4
The silence in the bedroom was suffocating. Caleb’s eyes burned into mine, filled with a torturous mix of anger, betrayal, and a desperate plea for the truth.
Where did the six million go?
The question echoed in my mind. I spent six million already, Caleb. For Leah. For the daughter I had in secret. The daughter who inherited your congenital heart disease.
I spent every dime in hospitals, from the day she was born until she turned five.
And a month ago, she finally had a heart transplant, only to suffer severe rejection. The medical bills are drowning me.
But I couldn't say a word. If his mother, Isabella Donovan, found out about Leah, she would snatch my daughter away in a heartbeat. Or worse.
"I told you," I forced a careless shrug, tearing my gaze away from his intense stare. "I'm not some grand piano prodigy anymore. I only take private gigs. It's normal not to get stage invites."
Caleb’s jaw clenched. "And the money?"
"I spent it all. That's why I'm teaching brats and washing dishes—to pay off debts. I need the cash."
He looked at my rough, scarred hands, his chest heaving. "And your asthma? You have nothing left for proper medication?"
"Asthma can't be cured anyway," I said flippantly, grabbing my cheap inhaler and shoving it into my bag. "Any medicine works."
I didn't wait for his reaction. I scrambled off the bed and practically ran out of the villa.
I couldn't ruin his life again.
For the next week, I went to the villa for rehearsals, but we didn't speak. Not a single word. He sat in the shadows, watching me play, the air between us thick with unspoken pain.
On Friday, Ethan accompanied me to the hospital to visit Leah.
Ethan was a fellow piano teacher at the community center. For the past five years, he’d been a solid friend—covering my shifts, helping with Leah, and quietly standing by us.
"Mommy!" Leah beamed, sitting up in her stark white hospital bed. Her small face was pale, but her eyes were bright.
"Hey, sweetie," I smiled, brushing her hair back.
Ethan pulled a small stuffed bear from behind his back. "Special delivery for the bravest girl I know."
Leah giggled, snatching it up. "Look, Mommy! Ethan brought me a bear!"
"Make sure you name him something tough," Ethan teased, gently tapping her nose.
"I will!" she beamed.
"What a cute bear," I whispered.
Suddenly, Leah’s smile faltered.
She gasped, her tiny hands clutching her chest. The heart monitor flatlined into a piercing, endless beep.
"Leah!" I screamed.
Nurses rushed in, pushing me aside. "Code blue! Get the crash cart!"
They wheeled her out in seconds. My vision blurred. My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe. The familiar wheeze of an asthma attack seized my airway. I collapsed against the wall, dry heaving.
"Florence!" Ethan panicked, digging frantically through my bag. "Where's the inhaler? Where is it?!"
Before Ethan could find it, a strong arm caught my waist.
"Florence, breathe. Inhale. Now."
Caleb.
He shoved a inhaler into my mouth. The medication hit my lungs. I gasped, clinging to his jacket like a lifeline. He was trembling.
My knees gave out. I dropped to the floor, grabbing his pant leg.
"Caleb," I sobbed, abandoning every shred of pride. "Please. The rest of the money. The eight hundred thousand. Can I have it now? I can't wait until tomorrow. I need to transfer her to a better hospital today."
He stared down at me, his face pale, his eyes darting to Ethan, who stood nearby.
"She's my daughter," I cried, the lie slipping out smoothly in my desperation. "She's four. I had her with someone else after I left you. But she's a good kid, Caleb. She's so good. Please, I'm begging you."
Caleb’s entire body went rigid. His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He looked at Ethan, the silent accusation clear.
He didn't ask questions. He pulled out his phone.
"Get a medevac ready. Contact Boston Children's. Highest priority," he ordered his men, his voice tight. "...and cancel the engagement party tomorrow."
I could hear his assistant's panicked hesitation. "But Boss, Madam Donovan..."
Caleb cut him off coldly. "Just do exactly as I said. I'll deal with my mother myself."
He hung up, his jaw set.
Hearing Caleb’s decisive orders, Ethan realized the situation was handled. He turned to me, his voice gentle.
"Florence, I have classes back at the studio, so I'm going to head out," he said, giving me a reassuring look. "Keep me updated, okay? Call me if you need anything at all."
I gave a numb nod, and Ethan turned and walked down the corridor.
Within an hour, a specialized medical team arrived. Caleb handled everything.
When the chaos finally settled and Leah was stabilized for transport, he slumped onto a plastic bench in the hallway.
I walked over, clutching a cup of hot water. He looked utterly broken. His skin was gray, and he was clutching his chest, his breathing shallow.
"Caleb?" I whispered. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer. His phone buzzed, cutting through the silence.
He fumbled to answer it, accidentally hitting the speaker button.
"Boss," his assistant's voice echoed in the quiet hall. "Everything is set. We've secured the transfer and the specialists are standing by to treat the rejection. But there's a discrepancy."
"What is it?"
"The medical records from the hospital..." The assistant hesitated. "You said the kid was four. But the file says she's five."
Caleb’s eyes snapped open. He slowly turned his head to look at me.
Five years old.
Exactly five years since I left him.
We stood frozen.
