“You shouldn’t have come, Grant. Now we’re all in danger.” Just then, a black car pulled up behind us, and my daughter screamed…

going to survive this.”

“Grant…” Lena protested weakly. “Your mother’s network…”

“Her network is about to be systematically dismantled,” I promised.

The VIP pavilion at St. Augustine Medical Center operated with the hushed, reverent efficiency reserved for the ultra-elite. I had single-handedly funded their new cardiovascular wing; my arrival with an continue reading …