Chapter Twenty-Six #3
Grier reached out a hand to rub Molly’s back. Molly turned toward her, eyes wild with desperation.
“I’ve heard the nurses talking—when they think I’m asleep,” she whispered, voice cracking. “They’re saying surgery is being scheduled. But… he’s too sick for surgery! He won’t make it out!”
Her sobs swelled, and she looked frantically between Haleigh and Grier. “I—I know he’s too weak. He needs time.” Her voice pitched higher, her words breaking. “I need time!”
And then she was in Grier’s arms, her composure dissolving. Her will to fight faded to the keen, burning understanding that her son was dying, and she was powerless to stop it.
Grier held her as she wept, swallowing her own sobs. Molly didn’t need her breakdown—she needed strength to support her through this. Grier could fall apart later.
Eventually, Haleigh guided them to some guest chairs. A nurse appeared with water, and they sat in silence for a few moments, steadying their breathing.
“You can refuse surgery, Molly,” Grier said, looking to Haleigh for confirmation. Haleigh looked at her, reluctant acceptance in her eyes.
“She’s right,” Haleigh said, squaring her shoulders. “You don’t have to consent. No one can operate without your approval.”
Molly stared at the floor, her hands tightening around the water bottle until the plastic crackled. The sound crawled along Grier’s spine like static.
“But what do we do instead?” Molly whispered.
Grier heard Haleigh inhale, steadying her thoughts before she spoke.
“Most of that will fall to oncology,” she said gently. “But it’ll likely mean managing the infection with IV fluids and keeping him comfortable.”
Haleigh looked to Grier. Grier winced under the weight of the truth they both knew: none of their options were good. But they had to choose something. The only alternative was to do nothing—and that wasn’t an option at all.
“I knew something was wrong. I knew it,” Molly whispered. “You’re doing the best you can, Molly,” Grier encouraged, rubbing her back again.
“No. I should’ve listened to my gut. I should’ve fought him when he told me he was fine.
” Molly swiped at her eyes, refusing to let new tears fall.
“I’m his mother. I should’ve overruled him.
But he was so—” her voice cracked, “—so happy… I just wanted to give him these moments. These few days. I wanted him to have this childhood.” Her breath caught. “It… it isn’t fair!”
“Molly—there’s absolutely nothing you could’ve done differently,” Grier reassured her.
“In all likelihood, we’d still be here, even if you brought him in when your gut told you to.
That’s Ewing’s. It just… takes and takes and takes until there’s nothing left.
” Grier’s voice softened. “You gave Jonah as much of a childhood as you could. And he is happy— because you prioritized that. Because of you, Molly. You are the best mom.” Her voice cracked.
“Please remember that,” she whispered, willing Molly to believe it.
Molly’s back shuddered under Grier’s palm, her faint sobs wracking her worried frame. “It isn’t fair,” she said again. “It isn’t fair.”
Grier sat with her, Haleigh silent at her side. She hated this feeling—this incapacitation. Like her life—and Jonah’s—was passing her by outside of her control.
She had never done well with uncertainty.
She preferred to search and research and pick every problem apart until she saw how it worked on its most basic, cellular level.
Because she could work with that. She could manipulate those facts, that inarguable knowledge of rightness.
Where she could change the very nature of her problems.
This wasn’t that. Ewing’s didn’t ascribe to her processes—it didn’t have to listen. Ewing’s was the captain of this aircraft.
But she didn’t have to eject. Jonah wasn’t gone yet. He was lying there, fighting for his life, and they were out here crying for him. Crying about something that hadn’t happened yet. And she’d be damned if she didn’t do everything in her power to give him—and Molly—that chance.
Grier stood abruptly. Molly didn’t seem to notice, but Haleigh appeared concerned before understanding settled in her eyes.
Grier crossed her arms, defiance already settling in her bones. “Molly,” Haleigh said calmly, “why don’t you go back in with Jonah? We’re going to go speak with the rest of his team. We’ll be back soon.”
Molly nodded, not really looking at them, and slipped into Jonah’s room. She was a ghost of a woman, preceding her son to an early grave.
Grier didn’t wait for Haleigh. She turned on her heel and strode toward the elevators, urgency quickening her step. Haleigh caught up with her in a matter of steps.
“I’m on your side, Grier,” she said firmly. “But confronting him right now won’t make anything better—for anyone,” Haleigh warned. “Keep your cool. For Jonah.”
Grier stepped into the elevator and jabbed the button for the surgical floor. As the doors slid shut, she leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, jaw set. The heat of anger and the anticipation of a worthy fight rolled off her in waves.
“I have ice in my veins, Haleigh,” she said, her voice level and lethal. “I have never been so cool.”
The elevator dinged, and she stepped out with calm precision, striding toward the corridor where the surgical physicians kept their offices. She passed Haleigh’s familiar door, and stopped two doors down—Victor Vanders, etched in an elegant metal name plate.
She opened the door without a knock, and burst across the threshold. Her rage was storming, and she was about to unleash her fury on the man least likely to care.
Vanders was seated at his desk when she stormed in, a mug of coffee steaming on his desk while he casually perused the morning paper. He wasn’t even reading case notes. No—he was simply sitting there, enjoying his peace while chaos brewed around him. Because of him.
He didn’t even flinch. He looked at her with maddening indifference, casually crossing an ankle over the other knee, and reached for his mug of coffee. He took a slow sip, unbothered, his lips ghosting into a smug smile.
He was controlled. He was collected. He was prepared.
“Grier,” he drawled. Apathy laced his voice while he deliberately refused to address her with her title.
He was belittling her in a way only a man in power could. And she knew it. She held her breath, and felt Haleigh’s warning touch on her shoulder.
“And Dr. Rhodes,” he smoldered from his chair, his gaze sliding to Haleigh. “I suspected the two of you were in collusion, but I could never prove it. If I’d known all it would take was a little boy fighting for his life, I’d have forced this surgery weeks ago.”
“You’re not even going to deny it, then?” Grier nearly spat. She could taste the vehemence on her tongue.
Of all the tools to use against her in his half-cocked plan for retribution, he was choosing to weaponize a child. Grier had thought she understood the worst of humanity. But Victor Vanders’s scope of depravity was a new level of low.
Vanders smiled at her, a wicked upturn at the corner of his mouth that told Grier everything: he knew he had bested her. And he that knew she knew it.
“There’s nothing to deny,” he said with mock innocence. “His mother carelessly neglected to provide appropriate intervention in a timely manner.”
Grier watched as Vanders posture rose just a fraction, his confidence—his ego—growing with the intensity of the conversation. “We’re mandatory reporters, Grier. I had no choice…” His voice trailed off as he bared his teeth, the smile visceral and feral and ripe with misappropriated victory.
His words hit her only milliseconds before her understanding. But Haleigh’s own understanding was quicker—measured in the length of heartbeats—her hand squeezing Grier’s shoulder in preventive intervention.
Grier’s heart plummeted to her gut, then rebounded to her throat, where it lodged uncomfortably. She shook her head, tears already starting to fall despite her efforts to not give Vanders that satisfaction. She was beyond her own control now.
“You didn’t…”
Vanders’s smile intensified. Grier could feel the vibration of his satisfaction radiate in the room. He was gloating.
“CPS was notified of this egregious case of child neglect a few hours ago,” he said, glancing at his watch—performing.
“A caseworker should be arriving any minute to complete their evaluation. Once that’s complete, medical decision-making will be transferred to the assigned Healthcare Provider Authority. ”
He looked up, eyes locking with hers. “To me.” “Victor…”
Haleigh’s normally confident voice was hushed and broken. Grier felt their shoulders brush as Haleigh stepped forward, approaching Vanders for her own confrontation.
“This is too far. Even for you.”
Haleigh walked right up to Vanders, her steps measured and unflinching. He stood to meet her and exert his entire six-foot frame over her in a show of physical power.
“I hope you’re prepared to face Dr. Miles and the Peer Review Committee,” Haleigh said, her voice calm by razor-edged.
“Dr. Miles isn’t here, Haleigh.” Vanders’s voice was low and smug. “In case you haven’t noticed, the old dodger is off his game. He’s on his way out. And I’m taking over. I suggest—and I’ll only offer this courtesy once—you get behind me where you belong. Or I’ll get you out of my way.”
Grier watched through watery eyes as Haleigh drew herself up to her full height and looked Vanders directly in his hollow eyes.
“If you haven’t figured it out by now, Victor,” Haleigh said evenly, “you don’t scare me. But you should be scared of me.”
At that, she turned on the balls of her feet and ushered Grier out of the room.
Grier was silent as Haleigh basically herded her into her office and shut the door behind them.
She felt the weight of the conversation, and the gravity of what Haleigh’s defiance would mean for the surgeon.
Haleigh had risked her career in defense of Jonah, and in solidarity with Grier.
Her shoulders were heavy with the burden of that responsibility.
“Haleigh—”
“No, Grier. Don’t even say it,” Haleigh’s voice was clipped, controlling her anger. “He went too far.”
She picked up her phone and began dialing a number by heart.
Grier waited patiently while the line connected, hearing the faint ringing through the earpiece pressed against her friend’s ear.
Their eyes connected, and she felt a rush of resolve wash over her, seeing the intensity of determination in Haleigh’s eyes.
Whatever was about to happen, Haleigh was in charge now.
“Mrs. Miles, it’s Haleigh Rhodes.”
Haleigh smiled at Grier while Mrs. Miles offered her greeting on the other end of the line. “We’ve got a situation at the hospital I’m certain your husband would want to be made aware of. I’m coming to visit—and I’m bringing a friend.”