thing was shallow. I pressed the call button, but no one c

re not well. Th

' s daughter," she said dismissively

t went straight to voicemail. I tried again. And again. On the tenth try, he fina

t, Elara? I

hey' re bleeding, they have a fever.

' re always making things bigger than they are. They' re fine. Don' t bother

hun

A gala? My sons were fighting for

myself. I ran outside to find a car. All the Thorne

way to SoHo to pick up some macarons for Miss Vance. Anothe

t. My sons' lives were wor

two boys, one in each arm. They were semi-conscious, their small bodies limp ag

, my clothes soaked, my sons bleeding in my arms, trying to hail a cab. Peo

"Saint Vincent' s Public H