Derek close behind me.
Sarah was waiting in the lobby, her face drawn with worry. She rushed toward me.
“He’s in Treatment Room 3,” she said, already leading the way. “Dr. Miller is with him, but they’re having trouble stabilizing
him.”
“How bad is it?” I asked, dreading the answer.
Sarah’s expression told me everything I needed to know. “It’s severe, Olivia. His airway was almost completely closed by the time
they got him here.”
As we hurried down the corridor, I saw Rachel sitting on a bench, her head in her hands. When she heard our footsteps, she
looked up, her face streaked with mascara.
“Olivia!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “Thank goodness you’re here. It’s terrible!”
Derek strode forward, his face contorted with rage. “What did you do?”
Before she could answer, Sarah pulled me aside. “Oliver is still in the emergency room. His condition is critical, and they need
your expertise. You’re the only one who knows his complete medical history and how to treat his unique condition.”
My maternal instinct took over. Whatever had happened, my son needed me. I pushed past Derek and Rachel, heading straight for
Treatment Room 3.
Dr. Miller looked up as I burst through the door. Relief washed over his face.
“Dr. Winters, thank goodness,” he said. “His immune response is unlike anything I’ve seen. Our standard protocols aren’t
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working.
11
I moved to Oliver’s side, my heart breaking at the sight of him. His small body was swollen, his breathing labored even with oxygen support. Monitors beeped urgently around him.
“What’s his status?” I asked, slipping into professional mode.
“BP 80/40, heart rate 160, 02 sat 85% with supplemental oxygen,” a nurse reported. “We’ve administered three doses of
epinephrine with minimal response.”
I immediately recognized why standard treatments weren’t working. Oliver’s unique condition required a specialized approach.
“I need 20mg of werewolf–modified corticosteroids and the European herbal extract in my office–the green vial in the locked cabinet,” I instructed. “His system needs both conventional and pack medicine.”
As the team rushed to follow my orders, I heard raised voices outside. Derek and Rachel were arguing loudly in the hallway.
“What happened?” Derek demanded. “Tell me what you gave him!”
“Nothing!” Rachel protested. “We just had some ice cream after dinner. He’s had it before without any problems!”
I stepped into the hallway, fury building inside me. “Ice cream? You gave him dairy knowing his severe allergy?”
Rachel looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “He’s eaten small amounts before without reacting this badly. I thought the allergy
was something you made up to control him.”
Derek’s face darkened with rage. “You thought she made it up? Oliver almost died from an allergic reaction when he was three!”
Sarah appeared with the medications I’d requested, and I turned to go back into the treatment room.
“He ate a large amount of cream,” Sarah explained quickly. “The paramedics said there was an empty ice cream container in the
trash. Triple chocolate with extra cream topping.”
When Derek heard this, his expression changed from concern to murderous rage. He turned to Rachel, grabbing her shoulders.
“What have you done?” he roared. “Did you try to kill my son?”
Rachel backed away, her body trembling. “No! Of course not! Like I said, he’s had ice cream before with no problems.”
I couldn’t help but scoff, drawing their attention. “That’s because I spent $100,000 a year buying him imported herbal medicines
to strengthen his constitution. Without those medicines, his allergies return full force.”
I looked at Rachel with disgust. “But you knew that, didn’t you? You heard us discussing his treatments many times,”
Rachel’s face paled. “I… I didn’t think it was that serious.”
“You didn’t think?” I echoed incredulously. “Or you didn’t care? You wanted to be his mother so badly, but you couldn’t be
bothered to learn about his medical needs?”
Derek’s anger reached a boiling point. Without warning, he slapped Rachel hard across the face, the sound echoing through the
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hospital corridor.
“This is all your fault!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “You’ve ruined everything! You turned my son against his mother, you destroyed my business, and now you’ve nearly killed him!”
Rachel clutched her cheek, tears streaming down her face. “That’s not fair! I was just trying to make him happy! You said Olivia was too controlling, that she exaggerated his condition to keep him dependent on her.”
Derek looked stunned, caught in his own web of lies. “I never said she should ignore his allergies!”
“You said his health had improved!” Rachel shot back. “You told me all the time that Olivia was overprotective, that Oliver was stronger than she gave him credit for!”
They continued to shout accusations at each other, their voices rising in panic and anger. The scene was both pathetic and
infuriating to watch.
Just days ago, these two had been united against me, conspiring to push me out of my own family. Derek had defended Rachel, supported her attempts to replace me in Oliver’s life. He had stood by while my son rejected me, while Rachel paraded around as
his mother.
And now? Now that their actions had consequences, they turned on each other like wolves fighting over scraps.
“You’re the one who encouraged him to call me ‘Mom‘!” Rachel screamed. “You told him I would be better for him than Olivia!”
“I never told you to poison him!” Derek shouted back. (2)
I shook my head in disgust. This man had no sense of responsibility. When things were going his way, he was happy to blame me
for everything. But the moment real trouble arrived, he pointed fingers at anyone but himself.
I’d heard enough. My son was fighting for his life, and these two were more concerned with absolving themselves of blame than
helping him.
I turned away from their petty drama and walked toward the emergency room. Although I had severed ties with them legally and
emotionally, I couldn’t stand by and watch the child I had carried for nine months, had loved and protected for five years, die
before my eyes.
Derek spotted me walking away. He immediately abandoned his argument with Rachel and ran after me, grabbing my hand.
“Honey,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation. “You have to save our child. Please.”
I yanked my hand from his grasp, revulsion coursing through me at his touch.
“Stay away from me,” I warned, my voice deadly calm. “Touch me again, and I won’t save anyone.”
