Hot Driver - S01 E84

Story 4 days ago

Hot Driver - S01 E84

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 84

—

Outside the Hospital

Ivory burst through the front doors into the cold morning air, feet bare against the pavement, not caring in the slightest.

She pulled out her phone with shaking hands, dialing rapidly.

“Get my jet ready. NOW. I need it fueled and ready to fly to Canada within the hour.”

She hung up before whoever answered could argue, dialing again immediately.

A guard from the hospital’s security detail approached cautiously, taking in her bare feet, her wild eyes, the hospital gown still half-tangled around her.

“Ma’am, do you need—”

“I need a ride to the airport,” Ivory said, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Now. Please.”

He didn’t argue further. Within minutes, she was in the back of his car, staring blankly out the window, her mind spinning through every terrible possibility with each passing mile.

He has to be alive, she thought, gripping her own knees hard enough to bruise. He has to be. I can’t lose him. Not now. Not after everything.

—

Alice’s Private Residence – Same Morning

Maeve sat on the edge of her bed, the small unlabeled bottle finally uncapped in her trembling hands.

There’s nothing left, she thought, staring at the liquid inside. No father worth having. No mother who didn’t lie to me my whole life. A disease I didn’t ask for, given to me by the one man who was supposed to protect me from things like this.

She lifted the bottle and drank.

All of it.

The knock came seconds later — frantic, desperate, Curtis’s voice muffled through the door.

“Maeve! MAEVE, please, open the door—”

The knocking turned to pounding. Then something heavier, a hammer striking wood again and again, splintering slowly with each blow.

Inside, the liquid had already begun its work.

Maeve’s body seized, a violent tremor rolling through her, and she slid off the bed onto the floor, rolling, clutching at her own stomach as pain tore through her in waves too intense to scream through properly.

—

Celeste’s Residence – Morning

Celeste sat with Luis on the couch, his face still blotchy from a night of crying, her arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

“He’s not going to die,” she said softly, for what felt like the hundredth time. “He’s strong, baby. He’s the strongest person I know.”

Her phone buzzed. A message alert from Mrs. Hale.

DUANE BROOKE: CONDITION STABLE AFTER EMERGENCY TRANSFUSION IN CANADA.

She read it twice, breath catching, before turning the screen toward Luis.

“Look,” she said. “Look, baby, he’s stable. He’s still fighting.”

Luis’s crying stopped mid-sob, his eyes widening as he scanned the words himself.

“He’s okay?” His voice cracked. “He’s really okay?”

“He’s fighting,” Celeste corrected gently. “Which is everything right now.”

Luis threw his arms around her, sniffling hard against her shoulder, and this time, the tears that fell were different — thinner, lighter, edged with something close to hope.

—