On my way to propose to another woman, I spotted my ex-wife at a bus stop holding three kids with my exact eyes.

The consultation room was cold, dominated by a dark wooden desk, two leather chairs, and wall-mounted light boxes displaying various chest X-rays and blood charts.

Dr. Mercer closed the door, walked behind his desk, and laid the thick folder flat on the blotter. He didn't invite Ryan to sit, nor did Ryan attempt to.

"What is wrong with him?" Ryan demanded, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of fear and rising authority. "What is wrong with that boy?"

"Leo suffers from Severe Aplastic Anemia," Dr. Mercer said flatly. "It is a rare, bone marrow failure disorder where the body stops producing enough new blood cells. His twin sisters, Maya and Chloe, carry the genetic marker, but so far, their marrow function remains stable. Leo, however, is in critical failure."

Ryan felt the room sway slightly beneath his feet. He reached out, gripping the back of an office chair to steady himself.

"How... how long has he been sick?"

"Since he was fourteen months old," Dr. Mercer replied. He opened the folder, pointing to a thick stack of medical bills, insurance denial letters, and laboratory reports. "Mrs. Vance—or Mrs. Bennett, as she goes by now—has been managing his condition almost entirely on her own for two years."

"On her own?" Ryan echoed, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Why didn't she file for medical coverage? I have the best health insurance money can buy! I have trust funds! I have access to top specialists worldwide!"

Dr. Mercer closed the folder with a heavy THUD.

He looked up at Ryan with an icy, unforgiving stare.

"She tried, Mr. Vance."

Ryan froze. "What?"

"Two years ago, when Leo was first diagnosed at Chicago General," Dr. Mercer said, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp monotone, "Mrs. Bennett attempted to submit a claim under your corporate family policy, which she believed was still active under her divorce settlement agreement."

"It WAS active!" Ryan insisted furiously. "I explicitly instructed my legal team to maintain her health coverage for two years post-divorce!"

"Then perhaps you should check with your legal team, Mr. Vance," Dr. Mercer said coldly. "Because two years ago, a formal legal injunction was issued by Vance Capital’s primary legal counsel, revoking her access to the policy, citing fraudulent post-marital dependency claims. She was threatened with a federal fraud lawsuit if she attempted to contact your firm or your family again."

Ryan felt as though the floor beneath him had suddenly opened up into a cavernous, bottomless pit.

Vance Capital’s primary legal counsel.

That wasn't just a corporate department. The managing director of legal affairs for Vance Capital was Arthur Brooks—Amelia’s father. And the executive overseer of his personal estate was his own mother, Eleanor Vance.

"She was forced to withdraw," Dr. Mercer continued, completely oblivious to the war waging inside Ryan’s head. "She sold her vehicle. She moved into a basement apartment in Pilsen. She works three part-time cleaning jobs while managing three toddlers and bringing Leo here twice a week for blood transfusions to keep him alive."

Dr. Mercer stood up, resting his hands flat on his desk.

"Leo needs a bone marrow transplant, Mr. Vance," the doctor said, his eyes drilling into Ryan’s soul. "Neither of his sisters is a full genetic match. Grace is a half-match, but her own health is severely compromised from chronic exhaustion and malnutrition. We have been searching the national registry for eight months without success."