Chapter 395:
“We should talk about your father,” the voice said, sending a chill down her spine. “But first… let’s talk about the present.”
“Julian is sleeping so peacefully,” the voice continued. “But check the infusion pump, little phoenix. Eleanor wasn’t the only one paying the staff. Sometimes, technology is the poison.”
The line went dead.
Aurora dropped the phone.
“Aurora?” Cecelia asked. “What is it?”
“Julian,” Aurora gasped. She sprinted for the door. “Marcus! Get the car! Now!”
The drive to Mount Sinai Hospital was a blur of sirens and terrifying speed. Aurora sat in the back of the armored SUV, her knuckles white as she gripped the door handle.
“ETA two minutes,” Marcus said from the driver’s seat. He was weaving through traffic with professional aggression.
“Call the hospital security,” Aurora ordered. “Tell them to lock down the VIP wing. No one in or out.”
“Already done,” Marcus replied. “Elias is meeting us there.”
Aurora’s mind raced. Check the infusion pump. The Gardener hadn’t sent an assassin; he had hacked the medical equipment. It was clean, remote, and deadly.
The car screeched to a halt at the emergency entrance. Aurora didn’t wait for Marcus to open the door. She bailed out, flashing her VIP pass at the stunned security guards. She ran through the lobby, ignoring the nurses calling after her.
She hit the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Fourth floor. VIP wing.
She burst through the double doors. Two of Elias’s guards were standing there, looking confused.
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“Let me in!” Aurora shouted.
She threw open the door to Julian Sterling’s room.
Julian was lying in the bed. He looked peaceful, too peaceful. The heart monitor was beeping, but the rhythm was erratic. Slow. Too slow.
Aurora rushed to the IV stand. She looked at the digital infusion pump. The screen was flickering.
Instead of the dosage numbers, a scrolling text read: GARDENER SAYS HELLO.
“He’s overriding the flow rate!” Aurora screamed. “It’s dumping the whole bag!”
She ripped the IV line out of Julian’s arm. Blood splattered on the pristine sheets.
“Marcus! Code Blue! Get a crash cart!”
Julian’s body seized. His back arched off the bed. The monitor shrieked a continuous, high-pitched tone.
“Cardiac arrest!” Aurora yelled. She climbed onto the bed, straddling Julian, and began chest compressions. “Come on, Julian! Stay with me!”
One, two, three, four.
“He was dosed with a Wolfsbane derivative!” Aurora shouted as a nurse rushed in with the cart. “It causes bradycardia and heart block! I need Atropine! Now!”
“Pushing Atropine,” the nurse said, her hands shaking as she injected the drug into the port.
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