Chapter 4: No TomorrowThe Brothers Who Let Me Burn

A year ago, I was diagnosed with early-stage lung adenocarcinoma.

I wanted to tell my brothers, but before I could get the words out, Piper stopped me.

"Weston works at the hospital. If you have him do your surgery, people will say he's giving you special treatment again. I'll stay with you through it. Don't bother our brothers."

She stayed with me throughout my hospital stay, handled the paperwork, and took care of me after the surgery.

She was the only one who knew about my condition.

If my brothers saw this surgical record now, they would know my lungs were no longer healthy. They would understand what breathing in all that smoke meant for me.

Weston hurried over, about to pull up the full record. "How could that be? Let me see what kind of surgery it was—"

"Weston!" Piper's voice came from behind him.

She walked straight over to the computer, leaned in to look at the screen, then covered her mouth with a laugh. "You don't need to look. I know what it was!"

She turned to Florence, her tone light.

"I accompanied Freya for a minor procedure last year. She'd had too many manicures, and she ended up with an infected ingrown toenail. They took care of it in the outpatient clinic. It only took about ten minutes."

Florence frowned. "An ingrown toenail procedure wouldn't be flagged as major surgery."

"Maybe someone entered it wrong in the system?" Piper tilted her head, looking innocent.

"Either way, it was a really minor procedure. Freya even wanted Weston to do it for her. I told her Weston performs major surgeries every day. There was no reason to bother him over something as minor as an ingrown toenail."

Just then, Garrett appeared behind them.

Hearing Piper's last sentence, he reached over and patted her head. "Piper knows what's best. She knows not to bother us."

Florence was still staring at the screen. "Dr. Fontaine, I still think we should open the record and take a look at the details."

"No need." Weston moved the mouse away. "Piper said it was a minor procedure. The system probably flagged it incorrectly. Let's take care of the fracture first."

The X-rays came back soon after.

There was a minor fracture in my right ankle that needed to be set. Other than that, there were no other orthopedic injuries.

Piper was the first to lean over and look at the results. She immediately let out a relieved breath. "Thank goodness! Freya's okay!"

She turned to my brothers, her eyes slightly red. "I told you… The way Freya looked earlier, like she was barely hanging on, really frightened me. She must have been terrified and unable to speak. That's why she looked so bad."

She paused and cautiously glanced at Weston's face. "Weston… Don't blame Freya. She probably just really wanted you guys to stay with her. Why don't you stay with her tonight?"

Stellan hadn't even answered when Garrett shook his head.

"No. If Mr. Prescott hadn't carried us out of that fire with his life on the line, none of us would be here. No matter what, we're staying with you tonight."

Weston sighed too. "Freya only has a simple fracture. It's nothing serious. My shift ends in a few hours. I'll brief the doctor who's taking over."

Stellan glanced at me and smiled. "She's always been a little needy. Once the doctor takes care of her ankle tomorrow, I'll take her out for a nice meal to make it up to her."

Garrett then patted Piper on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you home so you can get some rest."

Piper obediently nodded, and soon the sound of her footsteps faded down the hall.

…

I lay on the gurney, each breath feeling like a needle stabbing through my lungs, which had less than two-thirds of normal function.

'You guys don't have to make it up to me tomorrow. Because I won't have a tomorrow.' With that, my consciousness slipped free of my body and floated weightlessly upward.

Looking down, I saw a girl lying on the hospital bed, her face covered in soot, her lips purple, her chest completely still.

…

The next morning, the doctor taking over the shift pushed open the door to the on-call room with Weston's handoff notes in his hand. "Dr. Fontaine specifically asked us to take care of his sister's fracture first. Where is she?"

Florence pointed toward the far end of the hallway.

The doctor walked over and bent down. "Freya Fontaine? I'm the doctor taking over your care—"

His voice cut off.

Three seconds later, his shout echoed through the entire floor. "The patient is dead! Why didn't anyone manage her airway?"

At the same time, Weston's phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and breathed a sigh of relief. "It's the hospital. Caspian must be calling to tell me Freya's been taken care of…"

Before he could answer, Garrett's phone rang too.

Garrett picked up first.

The voice on the other end was stern. "Am I speaking with Mr. Fontaine? I'm with the Major Crimes Unit of the city police department. We've been reviewing the old case file from the fire at your family's home ten years ago, and we've found some discrepancies…"