The sterile smell of bleach and isopropyl alcohol assaulted Spencer’s senses the moment he stepped off the elevator at St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital. It had been years since he had set foot in a medical facility. Usually, his money ensured that top-tier doctors came directly to his estate in Pinecrest Heights. But today, the billionaire wasn't here as a VIP patient; he was a man desperately searching for the missing pieces of a shattered puzzle.
Beside him, little Charlee held onto his tailored suit jacket with a death grip. In her other arm, she tightly squeezed the blue teddy bear they had just bought at the toy store. Casey, the child welfare worker, walked a few paces behind them, maintaining a professional distance but keeping a hawk-like watch over the child.
"Is my grandma going to be okay?" Charlee whispered, her big, fearful eyes looking up at Spencer. The vulnerability in her voice pierced through the icy armor he had spent decades building.