The Prisoner Son Returns as the Medical Saint

Chapter 13: Who is real?

The pieces connected in Eliza's mind slowly, then all at once.

She stood at the foot of Mark's hospital bed and looked at the wall without seeing it, her thoughts moving backward through the afternoon.

The VIP floor completely reserved. Every ward sealed off. The staff stepping carefully around the name they had eventually given her.

The Holden family.

And the Holden family head was ill. Ill enough that the best hospital in the city had handed over an entire floor without negotiation.

She straightened slightly, something behind her eyes going sharp and focused, the same expression she wore in boardrooms when an angle presented itself that nobody else in the room had spotted yet.

If someone could help the Holden patriarch recover, the gratitude of a first-tier family would follow.

The kind of gratitude that opened doors that money alone could not unlock. The kind that made an upcoming public listing not just successful but untouchable.

She stepped away from the bed and dialed Peter Henderson.

He picked up on the second ring, his voice carrying the warm and slightly performative energy he used when he wanted to seem approachable.

"Eliza. This is a nice surprise."

"I have information," she replied, keeping her voice low and efficient. "The Holden family head is ill. Seriously ill. He is currently in the VIP floor of Central Medical right now and from what I can gather, the doctors have not been able to diagnose what is wrong with him."

A short pause. Then Peter's tone shifted entirely, the warmth replaced by something much more alert.

"You are certain about this?"

"The hospital confirmed the reservation is under the Holden name. The entire top floor. That does not happen for something minor."

"Eliza." Peter's voice climbed slightly, the excitement in it poorly contained. "This is significant. This is very significant." She could hear him moving on the other end of the line, the sound of a chair, a door.

"I received word just recently that the Medical Saint has apparently resurfaced. Someone with that title, a man who can supposedly diagnose and treat conditions that conventional medicine cannot touch." He paused. "If I can locate him and bring him to the Holden family, the connection we would build from that alone would be worth more than anything either of our companies could generate in five years."

Eliza said nothing immediately.

"You have done well bringing this to me," Peter continued, his voice dropping into something more deliberate, more personal. "Genuinely, Eliza. If this works out the way I think it can, I will not wait any longer." Another pause, this one weighted. "I will marry you. Immediately. You have my word."

Eliza stood with the phone against her ear and felt the awkwardness of it move through her chest like something lukewarm. Peter Henderson was handsome enough and useful in every practical sense and the Henderson name did things for her company's trajectory that she could not replicate through any other means.

But she did not want to marry him.

She had known that for some time now and had been storing the knowledge in a corner of herself she did not visit often.

"Let us focus on finding the Medical Saint first," she replied, keeping her voice even.

Three floors above her, Edward sat in the corridor chair with his eyes open now, his hands resting loosely on his knees. The materials Vivien had sent people to source were taking longer than expected. He had nothing to do but wait and he was doing it without impatience, which was something three years inside had given him permanently.

He heard them before he saw them.

Footsteps coming from the elevator, two sets, one measured and one quick with purpose. Vivien's heels he recognized already. The other set was heavier, unhurried, and accompanied by the low continuous sound of a man talking before he had fully arrived.

"Two days," the voice announced, sharp and carrying and belonging to someone accustomed to filling rooms with sound. "I attended one academic conference for two days and you have already moved Logan into a hospital and handed over his care to God knows who. Two days, Vivien."