Dr. Harris delivered grim news. “If he doesn’t eat by tomorrow, we’ll need to intubate. He’s giving up.”
At three in the morning, Adrian reviewed the security footage from his office.
He saw the door open.
It wasn’t Lily.
It was Margaret.
He watched her take the watch, smile cruelly, and even gesture obscenely toward Mateo’s framed photo.
Adrian hurled his glass against the wall.
He stormed to Margaret’s room. She broke under pressure, confessing and revealing Lily’s location in the Brookside district near the old market.
At dawn, Adrian found Lily lifting crates of tomatoes heavier than she was.
He did something he had never done.
He knelt in the mud.
“I saw the footage,” he said. “You were innocent. I was wrong.”
“I don’t care about your apology,” she replied. “What do you want?”
“Mateo is fading. He taps his finger—tap, tap, boom. He’s calling you. I have everything money can buy, and it’s useless. You’re the only one who reached him. Please.”
She could have walked away.
“I’m not coming back for you,” she said. “Or your money. I’m coming back for him. Margaret is gone. No more absurd rules. If he wants to get dirty, he gets dirty. And you will apologize to your son face to face.”
“I swear.”