Chapter 5

It was Friday afternoon, and I was in the VIP suite, doing a routine check-up on the chairman.

Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted from the ER. A woman burst in, clutching a child in her arms, looking like a lioness gone mad.

"Doctor, please, save my son," she screamed.

I'd recognize that face anywhere, twisted with panic and arrogance.

It was Linda.

Her son, Lucas Summers, was clutched in her arms, his little face cyanotic, lips tinged purple, and he was wheezing like a broken bellows.

The ER team sprang into action, hooking him up to oxygen, starting an IV,…