She blinked. She remembered the last thing recorded in her mind. About a car that had sent her flying into the rose bushes. The shock and the pain. The last moment of her life on Earth. Her throat tightened all of a sudden.
It took her dying to finally meet her father.
“Where were you all this time, Dad?” she asked. “I’ve missed you.”
The man, the Sandman, the Lord of Dreams, paused and smiled. His eyes were hooded. Sadness and sorrow were palpable.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, for not being around in your life. I wasn’t allowed to see you in person as much as I wanted to. But I have always been watching you. Looking after you from the Dreamscape. You don’t know how happy I am to finally see you face to face.” He stroked her hair gently. “My precious daughter. You have your mother’s eyes.”
Charlotte grabbed her father’s hand and pressed it against her cheek. It felt warm and comforting.
She’d resented this man her entire life. She’d vowed she wouldn’t forgive him even if hell froze over. Now she realized that she’d carried all that anger because she’d yearned for this moment. She’d grown up without him, with no father figure to look up to.
Charlotte Winters didn’t know she’d been starved of her father’s love.
Daniel Addington climbed down from the helicopter, eyes steely and face grim. His entourage in tow was equally perturbed. His silence made his underlings uneasy, and it showed on their faces. He’d worked them to the bone since he’d decided to petition a judge to grant him power of attorney for Charlotte. His staff had lobbied some politicians, judges, hospital administrators and some important people that could help smooth things over to help Charlotte’s cause. From his underground network, Daniel had also put a reward on the black market for organ donors in the event his quest to obtain them legally was unsuccessful. Daniel didn’t want to take any chances. He had to save Charlotte no matter what it cost.
And, he vowed with vehemence, if this accident wasn’t merely a coincidence, the guilty person would have hell to pay because he’d personally deliver the punishment.
He stood on the tarmac of the helipad on top of the Manhattan skyscraper he owned. His men waited, ready to escort him to his next destination—Bellevue hospital. Daniel wanted to meet Charlotte’s mother and personally ask for her help to save her daughter. The doctors at Bellevue had informed him that Mary-Anne had been in a catatonic state these past few years, but Daniel wanted to try anyway. Even though they wouldn’t be able to communicate, he wanted to pay respects to the woman who’d given birth to Charlotte.
The drive to Bellevue took almost an hour. It was past visiting hours when Daniel arrived. He was denied entrance by the security guards even though prior arrangements had been made with the facility director himself. His aide flustered as he took a hold of the situation. It turned out that the shift rotation had caused the problem; the fresh guards had no knowledge of the arrangement.
When Daniel brusquely headed to Mary-Anne’s room, the tension was high.
“Mr. Addington, excuse me, are you Daniel Addington?” called a man in a doctor’s coat when Daniel walked by the nurse’s station. His nametag read Dr. L. Greene. He was Mary-Anne’s doctor.
Daniel stopped. “Yes, I’m Daniel Addington.”
“It’s really you. We’ve talked on the phone. I’m Laurent Greene,” said the doctor. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. Is there something wrong?”
“I’ve come to see Mary-Anne Winters. I believe you authorized my visit and approved the patient transfer.”
The doctor was flummoxed. “I don’t understand. Your assistant picked up Mrs. Winters about fifteen minutes ago. I signed the release myself.”
Daniel went rigid. “My assistant picked up Mrs. Winters in person?”
“Yes. Is there some kind of problem?”
“I did not order any of my men to pick up Mrs. Winters.”
Dr. Greene’s face became pale.
“How did this happen?” Daniel let his irritation leak into his tone. “I believe I clearly stated in our phone conversation that I would see Mrs. Winters in person.”
“Ah, yes. But then your assistant—”
“What’s his name?” Daniel interjected.
“Jackson. I just know him by his last name. Look, his credentials were properly documented. He wrote down his name in the visitor’s book—”
“I don’t employ an immediate assistant named Jackson. What does he look like?”
Dr. Greene became very uncomfortable. “Regular gentleman. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Normal build…”
Daniel signaled his security executive to handle the rest. “Dr. Greene,” said Daniel. His voice was kinder. “Would you show me Mrs. Winters’ room?”
“Absolutely.” The psychiatrist collected himself. “This way, please.”