Chapter 3 - THE HOSPITAL DOORS
Elmhurst Hospital had seen plenty of men from my life.
Gunshot wounds with fake names.
Knife cuts explained as kitchen accidents.
Broken ribs from “falls.”
But that afternoon, every hallway seemed to know Elena Vasquez was different.
Doctors moved fast around her small body. Nurses shouted numbers. Machines beeped. Rosa held a rosary so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Tomas stood against the wall, shaking.
I stayed back.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I did not belong near their hope.
Tony leaned close. “Boss, police are coming.”
“Let them.”
His eyes narrowed. “You sure?”
“No child gets buried alive and we play games.”
A doctor finally came out after what felt like hours.
“Elena is alive,” she said.
Rosa nearly fell.
“But she’s critical. She was given heavy sedatives. Her breathing slowed so much someone could have mistaken her for dead if they wanted to.”
“If they wanted to,” I repeated.
The doctor looked at me carefully. She knew who I was. Most people in Queens did. “This was not an ordinary medical mistake.”
Tomas stepped forward. “Can I see her?”
“Briefly.”
Rosa and Tomas followed her through the doors.
I stayed in the hallway.
Tony’s phone buzzed. He looked at the screen. “We found Marco’s SUV abandoned near Long Island City.”
“Of course.”
“He’s running to Harlan.”
“No,” I said.
Tony frowned.
“Marco is not running to Harlan. He’s running from him.”
That was when my own phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
For three seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a man said, “Dante Romano.”
Victor Harlan.
His voice was smooth, educated, empty. A rich man’s voice. The kind that ordered cruelty through clean hands.
“You made quite a scene today,” he said.
“You buried a living child.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You want to choose your next words carefully.”
He laughed softly. “The girl saw cargo she shouldn’t have seen. Your underboss panicked. My driver corrected the problem. The hospital paperwork was handled by people who enjoy money. The funeral home did what it was told.”
Every sentence placed another name on my list.
“Why call me?”
“Because Marco has something of mine.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
I looked through the hospital glass at Elena’s parents holding each other beside her bed.
Harlan continued, “If Marco comes to you, kill him before he talks. If he talks, the city burns.”
“You should have stayed away from children.”
“And you should have controlled your house.”
The line went dead.
Tony watched my face. “Boss?”
May you like
I slid the phone into my pocket.
“We are going to war.”
