Chapter 3: The Sanctuary Above
The penthouse suite occupied the entire top floor of the Grand Meridian, offering a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline through floor-to-ceiling glass windows that currently reflected the deep violet hues of early dusk. Yet, the breathtaking vista meant nothing to Maya as she stepped onto the pale hardwood floors of the foyer. She stood frozen near the entryway, her bare feet refusing to venture further onto the pristine surfaces, as if she feared her very presence would soil the expensive rugs and minimalist furniture. Ajax was the first to move, walking steadily across the living room to lie down directly in front of the large picture window, keeping his dark eyes fixed on the door and on Maya.
Dr. Marcus Aris arrived within fifteen minutes, letting himself in with a master key provided by Henderson. Aris was a compact, silver-haired man in his late fifties with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and a worn leather medical bag that smelled faintly of antiseptic and old paper. He had been the Vance family physician for over a decade, and the sudden disappearance of Maya three years ago had left a permanent shadow over his own practice. When Aris stepped into the softly lit sitting room and caught sight of the girl sitting rigidly on the edge of a cream-colored velvet sofa, he stopped dead in his tracks. His medical bag slipped an inch down his forearm, his fingers tightening reflexively around the leather handle.
“Julian,” Aris murmured, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion as he walked slowly toward them, keeping his movements deliberate and unthreatening. He knelt down beside the sofa, bringing himself down to Maya’s eye level. “Hello, Maya. Do you remember me? I’m Marcus.”
Maya tilted her head slightly, her large, expressive eyes searching the doctor’s face with intense scrutiny. She didn’t speak, but a faint flicker of recognition seemed to cross her features, softening the severe lines of exhaustion around her mouth. Aris gently reached out, resting the back of his hand against her forehead to check her temperature, then checked her pulse at her wrist. His professional detachment slipped away for a brief moment as he felt how frail her bones were beneath her skin. He looked up at Julian, who stood rigidly nearby, his hands clenched into tight fists inside his pockets.
“She’s malnourished, dehydrated, and suffering from mild exposure,” Aris said quietly, keeping his tone calm and clinical to avoid alarming her. “There are minor scrapes and bruises along her arms and legs, likely from rough terrain or falls, but nothing structurally broken. Physically, she is remarkably resilient given what she must have endured. The deeper wounds, however, will require time and immense patience.”
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“Can she sleep?” Julian asked, his voice strained. “Can I give her something to help her rest without risking complications?”
“No sedatives,” Aris cautioned firmly, standing up and closing his bag with a soft click. “Her nervous system has been running on pure adrenaline and survival instinct for a very long time. Let her body guide the process. The warm bath and some mild broth will help ground her. I’ll leave some nutrient-rich supplements for tomorrow. But right now, Julian, what she needs most isn’t medicine. It’s the absolute certainty that she won’t be left alone again.”
