The call comes at 11 PM on a Tuesday.
I'm on Maribel's couch, reviewing documents Marcus sent. Asset lists. Bank statements. The inventory of my marriage reduced to spreadsheets.
My phone buzzes. Lucien.
"Hello?"
"Sera." His voice is wrong. Thin. Scared. "I'm at the hospital. With Ivy. She's—she has a fever. High fever. They're running tests."
My stomach drops. "What hospital?"
"Presbyterian. But you don't have to—"
"I'm coming."
"Sera, it's late. You have your lawyer meeting in the morning—"
"I'm coming."
I hang up. Grab my jacket and keys.
"What's wrong?" Maribel appears in her doorway, eyes half-closed.
"Ivy's in the hospital. I need to go."
"Want me to come?"
"No. Get some sleep. I'll text you updates."
The drive takes twenty minutes. I break three traffic laws getting t
