Chapter 3 - Shadows at the Door
While Cora shivered in the cemetery, Bennett sat in the dim office of the transmission shop, staring blankly at a grease-stained invoice. The rhythmic clanking of wrenches in the garage bays sounded distant and muffled. Despite his harsh words to Cora, a gnawing unease sat heavily in his chest—a feeling he ruthlessly tried to drown out with years of bitter habit.
His phone buzzed on the metal desk. It was an unfamiliar number from the City General Hospital.
Bennett frowned, letting it ring twice before picking up with an annoyed grunt. "Evans speaking."
"Mr. Evans? My name is Dr. Harrison," a calm, professional voice replied. "I'm calling from the pediatric oncology department. We’ve been trying to reach you regarding the diagnostic results we mailed last week for your daughter, Cora."
Bennett’s grip on the receiver tightened. "I didn't open any mail. What is this about?"
There was a brief, heavy silence on the line. "Mr. Evans, Cora’s health condition is severe. The tests confirmed a rapidly growing abdominal tumor. We urgently need her brought in for a surgical consultation. If this is delayed any further, it could become life-threatening."
The words hit Bennett like a physical blow. The shop around him seemed to tilt. For a fleeting second, the image of Naomi flashed before his eyes—Naomi, whose life had slipped away in a hospital room eight years ago. Panic, hot and suffocating, surged through his veins.
"No," Bennett muttered, his voice trembling despite himself. "She's... she's just looking for attention. She's fine."
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"Mr. Evans, this is not something she can fake," Dr. Harrison pressed firmly. "Bring her in immediately."
Bennett slammed the phone down, his chest heaving. Without another word to his coworkers, he grabbed his jacket, bolted to his truck, and sped toward the cemetery.
