Chapter 3 - The Cold Hospital Corridors And A Desperate Plan
The next morning, the Asheville hospital was a chaotic symphony of glaring fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and the frantic rushing of medical staff. The warm, insulated safety of Wesley’s kitchen felt like a distant dream as he navigated the crowded corridors. He wore fresh navy scrubs, a stethoscope draped heavily around his neck, and carried a clipboard loaded with patient charts. Despite the adrenaline of the emergency room, his mind kept drifting back to the property-document folder sitting on his kitchen table.
"You look like you're sleepwalking, Wes," a voice called out.
Wesley paused near the nurses' station, turning to see Dr. Sarah Jenkins, an attending physician and one of his closest friends. She was holding two steaming cups of terrible hospital coffee, offering one to him with a sympathetic smile.
"Thanks, Sarah," Wesley said, taking the cup. The heat seeped into his cold hands. "I'm just running on empty. It was a rough night."
"Luna doing okay?" Sarah asked, her expression instantly shifting to genuine concern. She knew all about Luna’s autism and adored the girl's unique brilliance. "Did the holiday schedule changes upset her routine?"
"Luna is perfect," Wesley replied, taking a bitter sip of the coffee. "She's at her specialized day program right now, probably drawing a new species of insect. It's not her. It's my family."
Sarah groaned, leaning against the counter. "Let me guess. Grandmother dearest is making demands for the grand Christmas pageant?"
"Worse," Wesley said, lowering his voice so the passing orderlies wouldn't overhear. "They told me last night that Luna and I are being banished to the solarium for the main dinner. They don't want Luna's 'quirks' ruining the aesthetic for their investors."
Sarah's eyes flashed with immediate, fierce anger. "Excuse me? They are excluding an eight-year-old child from her own family Christmas dinner? Wes, tell me you told them to go to hell."
"I hung up on them," Wesley admitted, a small, dark smile touching his lips. "But then I got off the phone with my lawyer. Sarah, I've been paying for everything. The caterers, the flowers, Ainsley's car. They've manipulated me into believing the family trust was broke, but the truth is, there is no trust. They are just broke."
Sarah stared at him, her mouth slightly open. "Wesley, you work sixty hours a week here. You save lives. And you've been handing your paycheck to a woman who won't even let your daughter sit at the dinner table?"
"I thought I was keeping the peace," Wesley said, his voice filled with quiet regret. He looked down at his scrubs. "When Claire died, they were the only family I had left. I thought if I just provided for them, they would eventually accept Luna. But they never will."
"So what is the plan?" Sarah asked, her tone shifting to absolute support. "Because if you pay for that caterer, I will personally drive to Charleston and flip the table."
Wesley laughed, a dry, exhausted sound. "You won't have to. I am canceling the checks today. All of them. I'm going to let the gala collapse. But Ainsley is going to notice the moment her credit cards bounce, and she knows where I live."
"She comes to your house, you call the police for trespassing," Sarah stated firmly. "You have to protect your peace, Wes. For Luna's sake. If they bring their toxicity to Asheville, you shut the door in their faces."
"I plan to," Wesley said, his jaw tightening with resolve. "I have the deed to the house. I have the financial records. When they come for me, and they will, I am going to end this parasitic relationship once and for all."
The overhead intercom crackled, calling Wesley to Trauma Bay Two. He handed the half-empty coffee cup back to Sarah.
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"Go save lives, Dr. Carter," Sarah said, giving him an encouraging nod. "And remember, your first patient is that little girl waiting for you at home."
"Always," Wesley promised, sprinting down the cold corridor, his desperate plan solidifying into an unbreakable iron will.
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