“I am your mother, and I have always looked out for your best interests.”

“You poisoned my wife,” I said, turning the truck onto the hospital street.

“Megan is unwell, Jake,” she said.

“She has been unwell for a long time, and you are too blind to see it.”

“Vance is already at the courthouse with the paperwork.”

“You are going to ruin this family over a girl who cannot even keep herself sane.”

I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, disconnecting the call.

The truck skidded slightly as I pulled into the emergency room parking lot.

I left the engine running for a second, my heart hammering against my ribs, before I grabbed the folder of papers and shoved my door open.

The Chicago wind hit my face, cold and smelling of wet asphalt and lake salt.

I ran through the sliding glass doors of the hospital, my boots squeaking loudly on the white tile floor.

The lobby was quiet, bathed in the pale green glow of fluorescent lights.

At the reception desk, a security guard stood next to a man in a sharp grey wool coat.