Page 133 of Scarlet Thorns
“What does that mean? What needs to be done?”
“If it doesn’t resolve on its own, we may need a small procedure— a D&C— to ensure everything is cleared properly. But first, I want blood work and urine samples to check for infection.” He strips off his gloves and tosses them in the medical waste bin. “I will call you with the results in the next one to two days. If the pain becomes severe, or if the bleeding increases significantly, you come immediately. Do not wait.”
The worry in his voice follows me out of the building like a dark cloud.
I’m barely ten steps onto the sidewalk when my phone rings. I reach into my purse and pull it out. Jason’s name flashes on the screen, and something cold settles in my stomach.
“Ilona.” His voice carries an edge that’s totally unlike his usual warm tone— like he’s discovered something that’s changed everything. “I have news. About your father. It’s big. You’re going to need to brace yourself.”
My heart skips a beat.
I scan the street until I spot a small park across from the clinic, just a patch of grass with a few benches and some shady trees. My legs feel wobbly as I make my way over and sink onto the cold metal slats.
“Tell me.”
The silence stretches out for too long, and I can practically hear Jason wrestling with whatever he’s about to say. In the distance, a church bell chimes the hour, each note hanging in the air like some sort of doomsday clock.
“Ilona, what I’m about to say isn’t going to be easy for you to hear. Your father did not die of suicide. He was murdered. The suicide was a cover-up. I’m sorry, kiddo.”
The bench seems to drop away beneath me.
The world narrows to just Jason’s voice and the wordmurderedechoes around my head. My throat closes like a fist and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the same time.
Dad.
Oh my God, Dad.
But somewhere beneath the shock, somewhere in the darkest depths of my soul, a tiny voice claws its way to the surface.
I knew it.
The thought rises from some deep place in my chest, fierce and vindicated and absolutely terrifying.
I fucking knew it.
“Do you know who did it?” My voice sounds strange, unfamiliar even to my own ears. Too goddamned calm, considering the bombshell he just unloaded.
“One of his business partners. I’m sorry to say this, Ilona, but it seems your father was involved in something very shady and frankly, quite dangerous.”
Business partners.
That makes no sense. Dad was a gynecologist. His business partners were other doctors, hospital administrators, medical suppliers. What could any of them have to do with murder?
“What are you talking about?”
Jason’s hesitation crackles through the phone line. When he finally speaks, his voice is even gentler, like he’s breaking bad news to a child.
“I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
“Tell me!” The words explode out of me, sharp enough that a woman walking past with a stroller glances over nervously.
“They were procuring orphaned babies for wealthy parents who couldn’t have their own child. For astronomical fees. And besides being the face of this operation, it seems your father was skimming these fees— practically stealing from his business partners. When they found out…” Jason’s voice trails off, letting me fill in the horrific blank.
Baby trafficking.
My father— gentle, healing, devoted to bringing new life into the world— was selling babies to the highest bidder.
Nausea rises up my throat in a wave that I have to force down by swallowing hard.
