Chapter 5 - The Empty Bed
I slammed on the brakes, sending the heavy SUV into a dangerous skid.
The tires squealed against the wet pavement until we came to a jarring halt.
"Turn this car around right now," I screamed.
Sebastian stared at me from the back seat, his face unreadable.
"If we go to that hospital, we are driving into a trap," he stated calmly.
"I don't care about your gang war," I yelled, tears streaming down my face.
"That is my little boy, and I am not leaving him to die."
Sebastian looked at my desperate, tear-stained face for a long moment.
He finally nodded and tossed me a loaded handgun from his tactical bag.
"Then drive fast," he commanded.
I pushed the heavy engine to its absolute limit, running every red light in the city.
We arrived at the private medical facility in less than ten minutes.
The front doors were completely shattered, and the security guards were missing.
I ran through the rain, clutching the handgun with white-knuckled terror.
Sebastian followed closely behind me, propelling his wheelchair with furious speed.
We navigated the silent, eerie corridors of the pediatric wing.
My heart pounded so hard it physically hurt my chest.
We reached room 412, the VIP suite where Oliver had been staying.
I kicked the door open and rushed inside.
The room was completely empty.
The heart monitors were flatlined, and the bedsheets were thrown onto the floor.
Oliver's breathing machine was still humming on the nightstand, but my son was gone.
I collapsed onto my knees, dropping the gun and letting out a gut-wrenching sob.
Sebastian rolled into the room, his eyes scanning every corner for a threat.
He noticed a small, white envelope resting on the empty pillow.
He picked it up and opened it with precision.
Instead of reading it to himself, he handed the heavy cardstock to me.
I wiped my eyes and read the typed message.
The note was not addressed to Sebastian Lombardi.
May you like
It was addressed directly to me.
"If you ever want to see your son breathe again, bring me Lombardi's head."
