Chapter 16 - MIDNIGHT OVER THE PACIFIC
The corporate victory at the boardroom was swift, but as the evening sun began to set over Southern California, real life delivered a reminder of what truly mattered.
Just as Jake was signing the final ratifying papers dismissing Thorne’s proxy petition, Emily’s phone chimed with an urgent alert from the nanny at their Laguna Beach estate.
Emily answered, putting it on speaker. “Maria? Is everything okay?”
“Mrs. Mercer!” Maria’s voice was filled with panic over the line. “It’s baby Ethan! He has a very high fever—over 103 degrees—and he’s having trouble breathing! I’ve already called the paramedics!”
Emily’s phone almost slipped from her hand. The blood drained from her face instantly. “We’re on our way! Tell them we’re meeting them at Children’s Hospital Orange County!”
Jake was already out of his chair before the call even ended. He grabbed his jacket, taking Emily’s hand in a tight, protective grip.
“Julian, take care of the paperwork,” Jake commanded, his voice cold with urgency but devoid of hesitation. “Everything else is secondary.”
“Go,” Julian said, stepping up and grabbing the pen from Jake’s desk. “I’ll handle the board. Go to your son.”
The drive down Interstate 5 toward Orange County was a blur of flashing lights and rain drizzling over the windshield. Inside the car, Emily sat in the passenger seat, her hands trembling as she held her face in her hands.
“He was fine this morning, Jake,” she sobbed softly, the iron composure she had displayed in the boardroom melting away into pure maternal terror. “He was smiling... he was breathing so softly in his crib...”
Jake kept one hand firm on the steering wheel, while his right hand reached over, gripping her hand tightly, his thumb pressing into her unpolished gold ring.
“He’s strong, Emily,” Jake said, his own voice thick with emotion, but steady as a rock. “Ethan is strong. We’re going to get there, and he’s going to be okay. Focus on my voice, sweetheart. Focus on us.”
When they arrived at the emergency department, the bright fluorescent lights and the smell of antiseptic hit them like a wall. They rushed through the doors to find Eleanor and David standing near the pediatric ICU corridor. Eleanor was holding little Harper, who was wide awake, her eyes big with confusion and concern.
“Where is he?” Emily gasped, rushing to her mother.
“The doctors are with him now,” Eleanor said, her voice shaking as she embraced her daughter. “It’s a severe viral croup—his airway was swelling rapidly. They’re administering epinephrine and putting him in an oxygen tent.”
Jake walked over to David, who was holding a crying Harper. Jake took his daughter into his arms, pulling her close against his chest.
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“Is baby Ethan sick, Daddy?” Harper whimpered, her little hands clinging to his jacket.
“He’s fighting a bug, baby,” Jake whispered into her hair, kissing her warm forehead. “But the doctors are helping him, and Daddy and Mommy are here now.”
