Revenge for My Son's Death

Revenge for My Son's DeathChapter 1

On the day of Gavin's entrance examination, my husband, Ethan Harrington, finally put aside his work to drive our son to the university. But halfway there, a sudden, urgent call pulled Ethan away, leaving us stranded. Desperation mounting, we ran to the university, arriving too late. Gavin, heartbroken, suffered a severe asthma attack and landed in the ICU.

If only Ethan had stayed. If only he had spared just one hour for our son.

In a panic, I called Ethan. To my shock, a female voice answered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Ethan is busy. What do you want?"

Fighting back tears, I uttered, "Our son is in the ICU. We need him."

Ethan's voice, cold and dismissive, cut through. "Is this another one of your stories? I'm tired of your lies." Then he hung up.

I tried again, but his phone was off.

That day, I lost my son forever.

***

"The patient's condition is extremely critical. Didn't you mention there's a special apparatus you use for him? Do you have it now?" The attending doctor walked out of the ICU, his face lined with worry.

"The patient's asthma has triggered heart failure. If he doesn't receive medication within two hours, he'll be beyond help!"

Only two hours. My face drained of color as the gravity of the situation hit me. The apparatus was a cutting-edge technology developed by my husband's company, Nexus Dynamics. It was still in trial phases, spearheaded by Ethan to break into the medical market. Despite being in stage five trials, our son, Gavin, was already using it because Ethan was convinced of its efficacy. Now, in Gavin's hour of dire need, I couldn't even reach my husband to bring it to the hospital.

My hand, frozen mid-dial, trembled as I nodded frantically at the doctor. "Please, do everything you can to stabilize him. I will get the apparatus as soon as possible!"

I said "as soon as possible," but panic overwhelmed me, and I could barely stand. I collapsed onto a chair in the hallway, dialing Ethan's number over and over again, but all I heard was the robotic message that his phone was turned off. Desperation rising, I called Ethan's assistant, Daniel Moore, pleading for help to deliver the apparatus.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Daniel replied, his voice strained. "Only Sir Ethan has the authority to access the laboratory since he is our CEO. No one else, not even I, can get in without him."