As My Daughter Burned, He Lit Fireworks for Her

"I have a legal right to those records." Elinor leaned over the counter of the hospital administration office, her knuckles white against the laminate surface. The administrator, a woman with steel-gray hair and a stiff posture, didn't blink. "Mrs. Grant, I've explained this. The HIPAA Privacy Rule prohibits us from releasing patient allocation data to unauthorized individuals. Even to family members of the deceased." "I am her mother," Elinor said, her voice rising. "And a donor kidney was diverted from my daughter. I want to know who authorized it." The woman's expression remained impassive. "If you have a legal grievance, you need to submit form 104-B to the compliance department. Security!" Two large men in dark uniforms stepped forward, positioning themselves behind Elinor. One of them gestured to the door. "Ma'am, it's time to leave." Elinor wanted to scream. She wanted to reach across the desk and shake the smug compliance off the woman's face. But she knew it was useless. The system was built to keep people like her out. She turned and walked out into the corridor, her heels clicking against the linoleum. She felt the locket bounce against her chest with every step, a cold reminder of why she was here. She nearly collided with Dr. Evan Cole. He was walking quickly, his head down, a tablet clutched to his chest. He looked up, saw her, and froze. "Dr. Cole," Elinor said, stepping into his path. "Why was Cece's surgery canceled?" Cole's eyes darted left and right, looking for an escape route. "Mrs. Grant, I am so sorry for your loss. But I can't discuss patient care in the hallway." "Was it the transplant committee?" Elinor pressed, moving closer. "Did someone else take her kidney?" Cole's face drained of color. He took a step back, nearly tripping over his own feet. "The committee makes decisions based on medical urgency and compatibility. That's all I can say." "Did Kamryn Turner take it?" Elinor demanded. "Did she use her connections to jump the line?" "I don't know what you're talking about," Cole stammered. He sidestepped her, breaking into a near-jog down the hall. "Tell me!" Elinor chased after him, but he disappeared through a set of restricted doors, the lock clicking shut behind him. Elinor stood there, breathing hard, her fists clenched at her sides. The anger was a living thing inside her, clawing to get out. She turned away from the doors and walked toward the main lobby. She stopped dead. The lobby was bright, filled with the afternoon sun streaming through the glass walls. In the center seating area, Derick was sitting on a plush sofa. He was holding the hand of a little girl-Kiana. Kamryn was beside him, her body angled toward his, her hand resting on his thigh. Kiana was holding a bright red balloon. She was laughing, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. She looked healthy. Vibrant. Alive. Elinor's stomach lurched. The contrast was a physical assault. Cece in her hospital bed, blue and gasping, versus this child, sitting where Derick could see her, touch her. Kamryn looked up. Her eyes met Elinor's across the room. A slow, cruel smile spread across her face. She leaned in close to Kiana, her voice carrying across the quiet lobby. "Look, sweetie," Kamryn said, loud enough for Elinor to hear. "That crazy woman is here again." Derick's head snapped up. His gaze locked onto Elinor. The warmth in his eyes from a moment ago vanished, replaced by a hard, warning glare. Elinor walked toward them. Her legs felt like lead, but her rage propelled her forward. She stopped a few feet away, her eyes burning into Kamryn. Kamryn shrank back, pressing herself against Derick's side. "Derick, please. She's scaring me." "Stay away from us, Elinor," Derick said, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't make a scene." "Did you take it?" Elinor asked, ignoring him, her focus solely on Kamryn. "Did you steal my daughter's chance to live?" Kamryn's face crumpled into a mask of injured innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about! Why are you doing this?" "She's bloodthirsty," Derick snarled, standing up. He positioned himself between Elinor and Kamryn, a human shield. "You're attacking an innocent woman because you're bitter." "Innocent?" Elinor let out a harsh laugh. "She is not your family, Derick. She is a liar." "She is more family than you've ever been," Derick shot back. The words hit Elinor like a slap. The coldness that had settled in her chest since the crematorium spread, freezing her veins. A few nurses and visitors had stopped, watching the confrontation with open curiosity. Whispers rippled through the lobby. Kamryn peeked around Derick's shoulder. She looked directly at Elinor and mouthed two words: You lose. The rage exploded. Elinor lunged forward, her arm raising, a finger pointing at Kamryn's face. "You stole from her! You let her die!" Derick moved faster than she anticipated. He grabbed Elinor's wrist before she could reach Kamryn, his fingers closing around the bone like a vise. "Don't touch her," Derick growled. Pain shot up Elinor's arm. His grip was bruising, crushing. She looked down at his white-knuckled hand, then up at his face. There was no love there. No concern. Only fury and possession. She tried to yank her arm back, but he held tight, his fingers digging into her skin, leaving angry red marks.