Chapter 7: The Shadows of St. Michael’s
Two days later, Noah was moved out of the ICU and into a private recovery suite. His strength was returning quickly, his appetite fueled by the gourmet meals Arthur had ordered from the city's finest restaurants, much to the amusement of the pediatric nursing staff.
Lily stayed by his side, refusing to leave the hospital until Noah was discharged.
While the children drew pictures at the small table in the room, Arthur sat in the corner with Detective Rita Vance, a sharp private investigator he had hired to look into St. Michael's Group Home.
"It's bad, Arthur," Rita said in a low voice, handing him a folder. "St. Michael's is managed by a state contractor called Apex Human Services. They've been embezzling state funds meant for child welfare. The kids were living on meager rations, sleeping in unheated rooms, and subject to neglect."
Arthur’s jaw tightened as he flipped through photographs of the dilapidated facility. "Why didn't anyone report this?"
"They did," Rita replied. "Child Protective Services filed three reports last year, but Apex used high-powered lawyers to stall investigations and sweep complaints under the rug. The administrator, a man named Donald Vance—no relation to your lawyer—has been pocketing millions."
Arthur closed the folder with a sharp snap. The cold, calculating executive inside him didn't vanish entirely; it merely redirected its fury toward a worthy target.
"Get me the district attorney," Arthur ordered coldly. "And tell Julian to prepare a civil lawsuit against Apex. I want that facility shut down by Friday, and I want every child inside relocated to proper care."
"On it," Rita nodded, a grim smile touching her lips. "They have no idea who they just crossed."
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Arthur looked across the room at Noah and Lily, who were laughing as Noah attempted to draw a giraffe with three legs.
"They picked on the wrong children," Arthur whispered.
