Chapter 7: The Awakening
Three days later, the Vance Pavilion at Northwestern Memorial was bathed in warm morning light. Elena had been moved out of the ICU into a private recovery suite overlooking the blue expanse of Lake Michigan. The fever had finally broken, and the ventilator had been removed.
When Mateo entered the room holding two cardboard cups of hot tea, Elena was sitting up, watching the sunrise.
"You shouldn't have bought the whole hospital floor, Matt," Elena said, her voice raspy but much stronger. "Or should I call you Mr. Vance?"
Mateo placed the tea on the bedside table and pulled his chair close. "I'm still Matt to you. Always."
Elena turned her head, looking at his tailored suit and the heavy platinum watch on his wrist. "When I saw you in the park... I thought I was hallucinating from the fever. I thought God had finally decided to punish me for running."
"You have nothing to be punished for," Mateo said fiercely, taking her hands into his. "I know about Arthur Pendelton. I know about the threats. I took care of him, Elena. He will never touch or threaten you again."
Elena lowered her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I worked so hard, Mateo. I painted murals at night, cleaned offices by day... but the rent kept going up, and the winter was so cold. When Emma got sick last month, I spent the rent money on her antibiotics. We got evicted. That's why we were sleeping in the shelter near the park."
Mateo’s chest ached with an agonizing guilt. He had built skyscrapers and closed multi-billion-dollar deals while his own flesh and blood huddled for warmth in a homeless shelter just three miles away.
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"That life is over," Mateo vowed softly. "I promise you on everything I am."
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