Chapter 2 - The Vipers in the Waiting Room
Chicago General Hospital was a fortress of blinding white lights and sterile, terrifying smells.
Annie sat on a hard plastic chair in the emergency waiting room, swinging her short legs.
She had refused to leave the ambulance, crying so fiercely that the paramedics had simply let her ride in the front seat.
Now, her blue coat was stained with Daniel’s blood, and her canvas bag was clutched tightly to her chest.
She watched as the double doors of the emergency room flew open.
A group of people walked in, moving with a kind of dark, terrifying power that made the nurses step back.
At the front was a man who looked like a younger, crueler version of Daniel.
This was Marcus Moretti, Daniel’s ambitious and ruthless younger brother.
Beside him walked his wife, Sylvia, a beautiful woman with cold, calculating eyes and a silk coat draped over her shoulders.
“Where is he?” Marcus demanded, his voice booming across the quiet room.
“Is my brother dead?”
A terrified doctor hurried forward, holding a clipboard like a shield.
“Mr. Moretti, he is in critical condition. Someone ingested a highly toxic neurotoxin.”
“We managed to stabilize him, but only because he received medical attention exactly when he did.”
“Five more minutes, and his heart would have stopped completely.”
Sylvia’s perfectly painted lips twitched, a brief flash of pure, unadulterated rage crossing her face.
“Who found him?” Sylvia asked, her voice dangerously smooth.
“We were told he was alone at the station.”
The doctor pointed a trembling finger toward the corner of the room.
“That little girl,” the doctor said. “She called 911 and stayed by his side.”
Marcus and Sylvia turned their heads slowly, their cold eyes locking onto Annie.
Annie felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the wet clothes she was wearing.
These people were smiling, but their eyes looked like the stray dogs in the alleys of Bridgeport.
They looked hungry, and they looked mean.
Marcus walked over, crouching down to be at Annie's eye level.
“Well, well,” Marcus whispered, his cologne smelling sharp and metallic.
“Aren't you a brave little street rat?”
“What exactly did you see, little girl?”
Annie gripped her canvas bag tighter, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Before she could answer, a massive hand clamped down on Marcus’s shoulder.
“Step away from the child, Marcus.”
Annie looked up.
Standing behind Marcus was a giant of a man, dressed in a tailored black suit, with a scar running through his left eyebrow.
His eyes were vigilant, calm, and terrifyingly protective.
May you like
Annie remembered the dying man’s words.
“Are you Silas?” Annie whispered into the silent room.
