1 Eight years ago, I stood on the auditorium stage at Northwood High and publicly destroyed Cole Everett. He had just given the valedictorian speech, all brilliant and full of promise, the golden boy everyone adored. Afterward, he’d cornered me behind the heavy stage curtains, his expensive suit smelling like clean laundry, and asked me to prom. I told him I had a boyfriend. He was the kind of person who’d never been rejected in his life. He just nodded, polite, and walked away. The next day, I heard he’d turned down a full ride at Harvard. The day after that, he was on a 4 AM flight to Germany for a fast-tracked medical program. I, as usual, was clocking in for my 4 AM shift at my sister's diner, my hands smelling like bleach and burnt coffee. Eight years later, I was on a bus to Boston, clutching the $7,000 I had left in the world, my arms wrapped around my desperately sick daughter. After reviewing her chart, the resident shook his head. "His file is complex. Honestly, there's probably only one surgeon in the city who would even attempt this. He’s a specialist just back from Germany. He successfully operated on a similar case last month." The doctor’s face suddenly lit up, and he called out to a man walking past us down the hall. "Dr. Everett! Perfect timing. This is the case I was just telling you about. Could you meet with the family?" For a second, I thought it might be a coincidence. Then I turned. He was wearing scrubs, not a graduation gown, but the eyes above the surgical mask were the same. Dark, intelligent, and completely, utterly cold. This was my first time back in a major city in eight years. The first hospital I went to. The first person I saw from my old life was the one person I’d prayed I’d never see again. Cole’s first words were not to me. He glanced at me, his gaze sliding right off, and spoke to the resident. "I’ve seen the file. Have Dr. Carter take her to my office. I’ll meet them there after rounds." It was obvious. He didn't recognize me at all. 2 I’d tripped on the curb outside the hospital entrance, too frantic to watch my step. I was so focused on making sure Annie wasn't hurt that I didn't notice I'd scraped my hands and elbows raw on the pavement. Dr. Carter, the colleague Cole had mentioned, was a kind man with a scruffy beard and a warm, chatty demeanor. He insisted on cleaning my wounds while we waited. "You've gotta take care of yourself, too, Mom," he said gently, dabbing an antiseptic wipe on my palm. "Especially with a kid this sick. Look at you, you're a featherweight. You'll collapse." I looked down. My coat, bought from a thrift store five years ago, was frayed at the cuffs. I was all elbows and cheekbones, worn down by exhaustion and fear. After Annie was born, I’d barely slept. When I ran into an old high school classmate in Syracuse last year, she’d stared at me, horrified, and whispered that she almost hadn’t recognized me. "Right," I said, forcing a smile. "Thank you, Doctor." "This is gonna sting a little." Annie, who had been quietly watching from my lap, suddenly scrambled up and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck. "Mommy," she whispered, and kissed my eyelid. "Kiss it. All better." It was what I always did for her when she got a shot. In her world, a "kiss" could fix "all better." "Wow, Annie. You were right. It doesn't hurt at all anymore." I held her tight with my good arm. "She's adorable," Dr. Carter's voice softened. "So, you're Annie, huh? That's a great name. You're a good girl, taking care of your mom." Annie, who had started speaking later than most kids, answered seriously, "Mommy. Hurts, too. I'm three. I go... hospital." Dr. Carter packed up the first-aid kit. "Well, Annie, you're going to get all better. Then you can go to kindergarten." He turned back to me. "Don't you worry. My buddy Cole is the best. We'll get you guys set up." "Oh, right. He's Dr. Everett. My bad. We were residents together in Germany. That's what I call him. Cole." It figured. Dr. Carter seemed to have opened a conversational floodgate. "Don't let his attitude fool you. The guy's a machine. He published twice as many SCI papers as I did. This world-famous cardiac surgeon, an old German guy who yelled at everyone, treated Cole like the son he never had. Took him on as his personal mentee, tried to keep him at his research institute." I wasn’t surprised. In high school, Cole got perfect scores in AP Chem and Bio. The teachers used to look at him like he was a winning lottery ticket. "Hey, wait a second," Dr. Carter said, his eyes narrowing. "Did you two... know each other? The vibe when he walked past was... weird." 3 I tensed. "No. Not really." He wasn't buying it. "You knew him before, didn't you?" "...We were in the same class in high school," I admitted. "I knew it!" He practically slapped his knee. "Okay, spill. Did he date? Was he a player?" I thought about it. "I don't think so. I wasn't really... in that loop." "Figures!" Ben said. "In Germany, the guy was a ghost. Never came to a single party. Just work, lab, home. The nurses in Berlin called him *'Der Schöne Geist'—*The Beautiful Ghost. Everyone was taking bets on who’d finally get him, but he never even went on a single date. Total waste of that jawline, if you ask me." Cole… did have a face that looked like it would break hearts. Those sharp cheekbones, the long, dark eyelashes. He looked like the kind of guy who’d leave you on "read" and not care. But the Cole I'd known was painfully earnest. I'd heard his family was old-money strict, but he was just... a decent guy. Back then, anyway. "Although," Ben said, leaning in conspiratorially, "the ice is finally melting! He gave up that prestigious job in Germany to come back here. Rumor is, it's for Dr. Rachel Qin. She's in Peds. Their families are old friends, grandfathers were in the army together or something. I mean, come on. Who's more perfect for him than that?" I just listened. "They're a perfect match," I said quietly. A storybook romance. "It's about time," Ben said. "She came back six months ago, and bam, Cole follows. He's totally chasing her. He's just too stubborn to admit it. So, really, did he have a high school girlfriend? Did he ever ask anyone out?" "..." My face flushed. "I don't know. We... we weren't close." Ben looked disappointed. "Yeah, that tracks. He never had many friends..." Just then, the door opened. Cole Everett stood there, hands in the pockets of his white coat. "What are we talking about?" "Nothing! Not a thing!" Ben Carter scrambled to his feet. "Chief wants me. See ya! You two chat!" 4 Cole hadn't heard. And he still hadn't recognized me. We were lab partners for six months in AP Chem. He wasn't a talker, and I was too busy. Busy studying, busy working. I did my homework during class so I could go straight to the diner, work the dinner rush, prep for the morning, and get a few hours of sleep before the 4 AM alarm. We had a silent system. He sat on the aisle, so he'd always refill my water bottle when he got his, saving me the trouble. I knew he was a neat freak, so I'd fold his assignments perfectly before turning them in. But we barely spoke. Other than that one, awful day at graduation, we were strangers. So, it was normal that he didn't remember me. "I've reviewed the file," he said, sitting at his desk. He glanced at Annie, asleep in my arms, and got straight to the point. "I need more details." He was thorough. He asked about every symptom, every procedure, typing notes into his computer, his focus absolute. Finally, he leaned back, scrolling. "Have you been handling her care alone? Where's your husband?" I didn't blink. "He's busy. Work. I've been at every appointment. You can ask me anything." His fingers paused on the mouse. He looked up, his eyes boring into me. "Busy? What kind of work is more important than his daughter?" I had no answer. But he seemed to let it go, turning back to the screen, his brow furrowed. "Her condition is... complex." My heart hammered against my ribs. "She's very young," he continued, his voice distant, clinical. "Her case isn't exactly like the one I operated on in Germany." He closed the file. I panicked, my hand shooting out, grabbing his arm. "Doctor, please," I whispered, afraid to wake Annie. "Please, save my daughter. She's only three." If Cole, the only hope we had, refused... I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out the thick envelope, the one with my last $7,000. I shoved it onto his desk. He froze. He looked at the envelope, then at me. His eyes narrowed. "Are you... bribing me?"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "386002", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel