Chapter 8 - Twenty-Seven Seconds
Dante’s heart stopped for twenty-seven seconds.
Claire counted every one.
She remembered compressions.
Orders.
Blood.
Sirens.
Mia screaming for her.
Then Harbor Ridge again.
Bright lights.
Operating room.
Surgeons.
This time Claire was not allowed to operate.
“You’re family,” the attending surgeon told her.
“I’m his physician.”
“You were his physician.”
Claire hated the distinction.
She sat outside surgery with blood covering her hands.
Mia slept against her side.
The child had refused to let go for hours.
Kate sat nearby.
Detective Ward stood beside the vending machines.
Nico paced.
Gabriel was in police custody.
Luca had survived and was under armed guard.
Nobody spoke.
At 5:11 a.m., the surgeon finally emerged.
Claire stood so quickly Mia woke.
“How is he?”
“The bullet entered low on the right side. Missed the major vessels. There was liver damage, but we controlled the bleeding.”
Claire exhaled.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes.”
Mia whispered, “Dante?”
Claire looked down.
“He’s alive.”
Mia began crying.
Not loudly.
Just silent tears.
Claire pulled her close.
“He promised,” Mia whispered.
“What?”
“He promised he wouldn’t disappear.”
Claire kissed her hair.
“He’s trying very hard to keep it.”
Dante remained unconscious for two days.
Mia visited his room twice.
The first time she taped Moonlight above his bed.
The second time she left a second drawing.
Three stick figures.
Claire.
Mia.
Dante.
There was a large space between Dante and the other two.
But he was there.
Claire noticed.
On the third morning, Dante woke.
Claire was asleep in a chair beside him.
His first word was not Claire.
“Mia?”
Claire woke immediately.
“She’s safe.”
Dante exhaled.
“Where?”
“With Kate.”
“How long?”
“Three days.”
He closed his eyes.
“Luca?”
“Alive. Charged with a list long enough to keep Detective Ward happy.”
“Gabriel?”
“Cooperating.”
Dante gave a bitter laugh.
“Of course.”
Claire poured water.
“You should rest.”
“I’ve done enough of that.”
“You were shot again.”
“I noticed.”
Claire handed him the cup.
Dante looked at her.
“You stayed.”
“I’m a doctor.”
“Claire.”
“And Mia wanted updates.”
He nodded.
“Right.”
She hated the disappointment in his eyes.
“Also…”
He looked up.
Claire sat down.
“I wanted to know you were alive.”
Dante said nothing.
“I’m still angry.”
“I know.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what happens after this.”
“I know.”
Claire frowned.
“Could you stop knowing everything?”
A weak smile.
“I’ll try.”
She leaned back.
“Gabriel told police everything.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
Claire continued.
“He admitted hiding Mia from you.”
Dante looked toward the window.
“He says he thought he was protecting us.”
“People around you seem very comfortable making decisions for other people.”
“That includes me.”
“Yes.”
Dante nodded.
Claire looked at his bandages.
“Why were you changing the organization?”
His face became guarded.
“No more half-truths,” Claire said.
After a long silence, Dante answered.
“Because six years away from you taught me something.”
“What?”
“That everything I inherited was worthless.”
Claire waited.
“My father believed power protected people. I watched power destroy everyone around him.”
Dante swallowed.
“When I left Seattle, I told myself it was temporary. A few months. Maybe a year. I’d eliminate the threats and come back.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I removed one problem, another appeared.”
He looked at her.
“And because Gabriel kept telling me you were happy.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“I wasn’t.”
Dante’s eyes filled.
“I know that now.”
“I survived.”
“I know.”
“I finished residency while pregnant. I took overnight shifts because they paid more. I pumped breast milk in supply closets. I slept three hours at a time for almost a year.”
Dante listened without interrupting.
“Mia had pneumonia when she was two.”
His face changed.
“She was hospitalized for four days.”
“Claire…”
“She recovered.”
He looked devastated.
“She started preschool at three. She punched a boy for pulling another girl’s hair.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Sounds like a Moretti.”
“She got suspended.”
“Definitely a Moretti.”
Claire fought a smile.
“Don’t encourage her.”
“I missed everything.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t get it back.”
“No.”
His voice became quiet.
“Then I want what comes next.”
Claire stared at him.
“If you let me.”
“That isn’t my decision alone.”
“Mia.”
“Yes.”
Dante nodded.
“I’ll accept whatever she wants.”
“Even if she doesn’t want you?”
Pain moved across his face.
“Yes.”
Claire believed him.
That mattered.
Later that afternoon, Mia entered carrying a paper bag.
Dante smiled cautiously.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
She approached the bed.
“I brought you something.”
He looked hopeful.
“A horse?”
“No.”
She opened the bag.
Peas.
Claire burst out laughing.
Dante looked confused.
Mia was completely serious.
“Mommy says people need vegetables when they’re healing.”
Dante stared at Claire.
“You told her I like peas?”
“I told her nothing of the sort.”
Mia placed the bag on his blanket.
“I hate them, so you can have mine.”
Dante nodded solemnly.
“Very generous.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mia climbed onto the chair.
“Did you get shot because you saved me?”
Claire’s smile disappeared.
Dante answered carefully.
“I got shot because a bad man made a bad choice.”
“But you jumped.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“Yes.”
Mia looked at her shoes.
“Why?”
Dante’s expression softened.
“Because you’re my daughter.”
“You didn’t know me.”
“No.”
“You still jumped.”
“Yes.”
Mia looked at him.
“Would you do it again?”
Claire immediately said, “Please don’t encourage him.”
Mia ignored her.
Dante smiled.
“Yes.”
Claire groaned.
Mia thought about that.
Then she reached out.
For the first time, she placed her small hand inside his.
Dante stopped breathing.
“You can be my Dante for now.”
He swallowed.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not ready to call you Dad.”
Dante nodded quickly.
“That’s okay.”
“But you can visit.”
His eyes filled.
“Whenever you want.”
“And you have to answer if I call.”
“Always.”
“And no disappearing.”
“Never.”
Mia narrowed her eyes.
“Even if bad people come?”
Dante looked at Claire.
Then back at Mia.
“Especially then.”
Mia nodded.
“Okay.”
She removed her hand.
The moment lasted less than thirty seconds.
For Dante, it was everything.
That evening, after Mia went home with Kate, Claire stood beside Dante’s window.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said.
“I’m changing my life.”
“You can’t erase what you are.”
“No.”
“What does changing mean?”
Dante reached toward a folder on the bedside table.
He handed it to her.
Claire opened it.
Legal documents.
Corporate resignations.
Asset transfers.
Statements.
“What is this?”
“I’m giving up control.”
Claire stared at him.
“To who?”
“Independent boards. Trustees. Some businesses will be sold.”
“And the illegal side?”
Dante held her gaze.
“I’m cooperating with prosecutors.”
Claire’s breath caught.
“That could send you to prison.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire stared.
“You finally find your daughter and your plan is to go to prison?”
“My plan is to make sure the world I created doesn’t reach her again.”
Her anger returned.
“You don’t get to decide alone.”
“I’m not.”
“You already signed these.”
“Not all of them.”
Claire closed the folder.
“What are you asking me?”
Dante looked at her.
“To believe I’m trying.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“I believe you’re trying.”
It was the first gift she had given him.
Dante looked stunned.
Claire continued.
“That isn’t forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“It isn’t trust.”
“I know.”
“It’s a beginning.”
Dante’s eyes met hers.
“A beginning is more than I deserve.”
May you like
Claire placed the folder on his lap.
“Then don’t waste it.”
