Chapter 2 - The Name He Never Forgot
Matthew Sullivan had signed contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars with less hesitation than it took him to answer the doctor.
“Do whatever is necessary.”
The doctor looked at him carefully.
“Mr. Sullivan, I need to make sure you understand that the patient may require emergency surgery. There could be significant costs involved.”
Matthew didn’t even glance at the paperwork.
“I said whatever is necessary.”
He took the pen from the admissions clerk and signed the financial guarantee.
“Private room. Best surgical team available. Every scan, every specialist. Put everything under my account.”
The clerk, who only minutes earlier had pushed Sarah’s cardboard box back across the counter, suddenly sat straighter.
“Yes, Mr. Sullivan.”
Matthew looked at her.
“And no one asks this child for another insurance document.”
His voice wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
The woman nodded immediately.
Sarah stood beside him, still clutching the box.
She stared at Matthew as if she couldn’t understand what had just happened.
“Are they going to help Mommy now?”
Matthew turned toward her.
That simple question broke something inside him.
He crouched so they were at eye level.
“Yes.”
Sarah searched his face.
“Even if I don’t give them my dolls?”
“You keep your dolls.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“Even Luna?”
Matthew looked at the handmade blue doll.
Especially Luna.
He had seen that fabric before.
Or at least he thought he had.
The faded blue material reminded him of a winter scarf Anne had worn when they were children. His mother had bought it for Anne after realizing the Miller family couldn’t afford new winter clothes.
It seemed impossible that the cloth could be connected.
Too many years had passed.
Too much life had happened.
Still, Matthew found himself staring.
Sarah held the doll closer.
“My mommy made her when I was scared.”
Matthew forced his attention back to the child.
“Your mother sounds very brave.”
“She is.”
Sarah nodded seriously.
“She’s the bravest person in the whole world.”
Matthew stood.
The doctor approached.
“We’re taking Ms. Miller upstairs now. She has internal bleeding and a severe injury to her left leg. The scans also show trauma near the spleen.”
Sarah’s face went white.
“Is Mommy going to die?”
The doctor paused.
Matthew saw the hesitation.
He stepped in before Sarah could read the truth in the doctor’s expression.
“Your mommy has very good doctors.”
Sarah looked at him.
“But will she die?”
Matthew had spent his career answering difficult questions without emotion.
He couldn’t lie to a five-year-old.
So he gave her the only promise he could.
“They’re going to do everything they can.”
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears.
Matthew held out his hand.
After a moment, she took it.
Her fingers were tiny.
Cold.
They sat in the surgical waiting room together.
Matthew’s assistants tried to approach him twice.
He dismissed them both.
His phone vibrated constantly.
Board members.
Lawyers.
An international investor calling from London.
His chief operating officer asking whether the noon acquisition meeting should be delayed.
Matthew turned off the phone.
For once, the Sullivan empire could survive without him.
Sarah sat curled in a chair beside him with the cardboard box on her lap.
She took out Emma first.
Then Penny.
Finally Luna.
She arranged them carefully across the empty seat.
Matthew watched quietly.
“Do they all have jobs?” he asked.
Sarah looked surprised.
“Jobs?”
He pointed to Emma.
“What does she do?”
Sarah considered this.
“She helps people find their shoes.”
Matthew nodded gravely.
“Important work.”
Sarah almost smiled.
“And Penny?”
“Penny catches bad dreams.”
“Very useful.”
“And Luna?”
Sarah looked down at the cloth doll.
“Luna listens.”
Matthew’s chest tightened.
“What does she listen to?”
“Secrets.”
He looked away.
That answer reminded him too much of Anne.
Anne had always listened.
When they were children, Matthew had lived in a mansion where everyone cared what his family name could buy.
Anne had been the only person who cared whether he was lonely.
They had met when he was nine.
She was eight.
His father had temporarily enrolled him in a public elementary school after a security threat made his usual private academy unsafe.
Matthew had arrived in a chauffeur-driven car.
The other children stared.
Some mocked him.
Others immediately tried to become his friend.
Anne simply moved her backpack off the empty chair beside her.
“You can sit here if you want,” she had said.
That was all.
For one school year, they had been inseparable.
They traded sandwiches.
Built forts behind the playground.
Shared pencils.
Once, when Matthew fell from a tree and tore his pants, Anne sat beside him until he stopped crying.
Then the threat against his family ended.
His father moved him back to private school.
Matthew remembered standing beside the car on his final day.
Anne had cried.
He had promised to write.
For a while, he did.
Then boarding school came.
College.
Business.
Life.
Years later, they met again.
That was the part Matthew tried not to think about.
He had been twenty-nine.
Anne was twenty-eight.
She had been working at a community arts center in Boston.
Matthew had attended a charity fundraiser.
Across a crowded ballroom, he saw her.
He recognized her instantly.
They spent that entire night talking.
Then another night.
Then weeks.
For three months, Matthew remembered what it felt like to be someone other than Matthew Sullivan.
With Anne, he wasn’t a billionaire heir.
He was simply Matty.
Then his father suffered a stroke.
Matthew was forced to take control of Sullivan Global far earlier than expected.
Everything became chaos.
London.
Singapore.
New York.
Legal battles.
Boardroom coups.
He told Anne he needed time.
She said she understood.
Then she disappeared.
Her number stopped working.
Her apartment was empty.
Her employer said she had resigned.
Matthew had searched at first.
Then his life swallowed the questions.
He had eventually convinced himself that Anne had chosen to leave.
Now, five years later, her daughter was sitting beside him.
Matthew looked at Sarah.
“How old are you?”
She held up one hand.
“Five.”
Something cold moved through him.
Five.
Matthew calculated automatically.
The charity fundraiser had been almost six years ago.
He stared at Sarah’s face.
Brown hair.
Soft features.
Nothing obvious.
Then she looked directly at him.
Green eyes.
His mother’s eyes.
No.
Matthew immediately rejected the thought.
Millions of people had green eyes.
Coincidences happened.
He was being irrational.
Sarah picked at a loose thread on Luna’s dress.
“Did you really know my mommy?”
Matthew took a slow breath.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“Before me?”
“Yes.”
Sarah thought about that.
“Mommy has a picture of you.”
Matthew froze.
“What?”
Sarah nodded.
“In the blue box.”
“What blue box?”
“The one under her bed.”
Matthew leaned forward.
“What kind of picture?”
Sarah shrugged.
“You’re younger.”
“Does she ever talk about me?”
Sarah hesitated.
That hesitation frightened him more than any answer.
“Sometimes.”
“What does she say?”
“She calls you Matty.”
Matthew stopped breathing.
No one called him that.
No one except Anne.
Sarah continued playing with the doll.
“One time I asked who Matty was.”
“What did she say?”
“She cried.”
Matthew’s stomach tightened.
“Then what?”
“She said you were someone she used to love.”
The waiting room suddenly felt too small.
Matthew stood.
He walked toward the window.
Miami stretched beneath the glass.
Traffic moved along the streets.
People continued their lives.
But Matthew felt as if six missing years had opened beneath his feet.
Behind him, Sarah spoke.
“She said you didn’t want us.”
Matthew turned around.
“What did you say?”
Sarah looked frightened by his reaction.
“My mommy said you didn’t want us.”
Us.
Not her.
Us.
Matthew crossed the room slowly.
“Sarah.”
She hugged Luna.
“Did your mother say I didn’t want her?”
Sarah shook her head.
“She said you didn’t want us.”
Matthew’s pulse hammered.
He crouched beside her.
“Did she ever say who your father is?”
Sarah became very quiet.
“My mommy says families can be just two people.”
“That’s true.”
“She says I don’t need a daddy.”
Matthew swallowed.
“That’s true too.”
Sarah studied him.
“But sometimes she gets sad when I ask.”
Before Matthew could say anything else, the operating room doors opened.
The surgeon stepped out.
Matthew rose instantly.
“How is she?”
Sarah ran toward him.
The doctor removed his surgical cap.
“The surgery went well.”
Matthew closed his eyes.
Sarah grabbed his hand.
The surgeon continued.
“We controlled the internal bleeding. Her spleen was damaged, but we were able to preserve it. Her leg will require another procedure once the swelling decreases.”
“Can I see Mommy?” Sarah asked.
“Not yet.”
Her face fell.
“Soon,” the doctor promised. “She’s still asleep.”
Matthew nodded.
“Thank you.”
The surgeon looked between him and Sarah.
“There is something else.”
Matthew’s relief disappeared.
“What?”
“When Ms. Miller arrived, the paramedics believed she had been struck while crossing the road.”
“Yes.”
“That’s correct. But some of the injury patterns concern us.”
Matthew frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The impact was significant.”
“Obviously.”
The surgeon lowered his voice.
“It appears the vehicle accelerated before striking her.”
Matthew stared at him.
“Are you saying it may not have been an accident?”
“I’m saying the police should examine the circumstances carefully.”
Sarah looked up.
“A car tried to hit me.”
Matthew turned toward her.
“What?”
She pointed toward herself.
“The big black car.”
His heart began pounding.
“Sarah, tell me exactly what happened.”
She hugged the doll tightly.
“Mommy and me were walking.”
“Where?”
“Near our apartment.”
“And then?”
“The car came really fast.”
She swallowed.
“It came at me.”
Matthew felt ice spread through his body.
“And your mother?”
“Mommy pushed me.”
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears.
“She pushed me onto the sidewalk.”
“And the car hit her?”
Sarah nodded.
Then she said something that changed the entire situation.
“The man stopped afterward.”
Matthew leaned closer.
“You saw the driver?”
“No.”
“What did you see?”
Sarah looked frightened.
“The back window opened.”
Matthew waited.
“A lady was sitting inside.”
“What lady?”
Sarah whispered.
“She looked at Mommy.”
Matthew’s skin prickled.
“Did your mother see her?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Mommy got scared.”
Sarah’s next words barely came out.
“She said, ‘You found me.’”
Matthew stood slowly.
This was not a random accident.
May you like
Someone had been looking for Anne.
And somehow, Anne had known exactly who that person was.
