Chapter 1 - The Sterile White Room
The beep of the heart monitor was the first sound that anchored me back to reality. I blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room, my entire body screaming in agonizing pain. My hands were heavily bandaged, IV lines snaking into my bruised arms. I turned my head, panic seizing my chest until I saw him. Leo was asleep in the bed next to mine, a small oxygen tube under his nose. He was pale, frail, but his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. He was alive.
Detective Carter, a seasoned man with a deeply lined face, sat in the corner holding a notepad. He didn’t offer a sympathetic smile. "Mr. Thorne. Glad you're back with us. The SAR dogs found you just in time. Your core temperature was lethal."
"My family," I croaked, my throat feeling like crushed glass. "They left us. They packed up the entire campsite and left us to die."
Carter sighed, flipping a page. "That’s where things get complicated, Marcus. We contacted your father, Arthur Thorne, in New York. He claims you had a severe mental breakdown in the woods. He said you took the boy and ran off into the wilderness screaming about your late wife. He said they searched for two days before assuming you'd hitchhiked back to the city to hide."
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The audacity of the lie hit me like a physical blow. "He’s lying," I snarled, trying to sit up, only to be pushed back down by my own weakness. "He left a note. Pinned to an oak tree."
"We swept the site," Carter replied flatly. "No note. No tracks indicating a sudden departure. Just your abandoned gear. Your father is filing for emergency custody of Leo, citing your psychiatric instability." The betrayal was complete. They hadn't just left me to die; they had planned to take my son if I survived.
