Where are you headed? If you’re trying to get to town, get in—I’ll take you.” The man lifted cloudy eyes to her and whispered through cracked lips, “Please… help.” Then he collapsed onto the shoulder and passed out.
There was no smell of alcohol. Of that she was sure. Maggie shook him gently and patted his pale face. “Come on. Wake up. I can’t get you into the car by myself if you don’t help me a little. Come on—lean on me. Let’s get you up.”
Straining with all she had, the pregnant driver somehow got him into the back seat and took him straight to the ER. On the way, she tried to ask questions, but all he managed to say was that his name was Elijah before he slipped back into unconsciousness from pain. At the hospital, Maggie handed him over to the staff, made sure they started treating him, and even paid for the initial care herself since he had no ID on him. Before leaving, she said, “That’s all I can do. I hope you pull through.”
Then she raced back to the cab yard, knowing she was hours behind schedule and her boss would be livid. In all the stress, she completely forgot about the hidden camera in the car. Arman, meanwhile, had been watching her route on the monitor in his office. By the time she pulled in, he was furious.
“What is wrong with you?” he shouted. “The customer canceled, you wasted my gas, and then you spent company time hauling some bum to the hospital? Do you know how much money you cost me?” Maggie fought back tears.
“Why are you yelling at me? I called and told you what happened. The customer was out of his mind and canceled the ride himself. And that man on the road was hurt.
What was I supposed to do—leave him there to die?” But Arman only got louder. “If you’re so generous, you can pay for your good deed yourself. I’m deducting the dead mileage from your paycheck, and you can forget your bonus. Maybe that’ll teach you. Now get back to work.
And clean out the car while you’re at it. The whole back seat is filthy. Who’s going to ride in that?” Maggie scrubbed the upholstery furiously, cursing her own soft heart. “So much for doing the right thing.
I help somebody, and I’m the one who ends up broke. What a jerk.” By the end of her shift, she was exhausted. She got home, showered, and fell straight into bed.
But at dawn the next morning, the doorbell started ringing insistently. Then came knocking, and men’s voices. Half asleep, Maggie dragged herself to the door, muttering under her breath.
“Who on earth is pounding on my door this early? I live alone.” She opened it—and froze. Three sharply dressed men stood outside.
The two on either side looked like security. The heavyset man in the middle had an expensive suit and a hard face. He stepped inside as if he owned the place and said, “Good morning. You’re Maggie, correct?
Yesterday you saved my son’s life. You found him on the road and got him to the hospital. I came to thank you. Please accept this as a small token of my appreciation.” He set a thick envelope on the table. Maggie immediately waved her hands.
“Oh, that really isn’t necessary. I just couldn’t leave him there. He looked terrible—bruised up, barely able to walk, clothes torn. By the way, how did he end up out there alone?” The man clearly hadn’t expected the question, but after a pause he answered.
“It’s an unfortunate situation. My son was kidnapped and held in some cabin in the woods. He managed to escape and was trying to make his way home. Tell me—did he happen to say anything to you in the car?” Maggie shook her head.
“No. He was in bad shape. He just groaned and told me his name was Elijah. That was it.” The man gave a thin smile.
“Good. That’s very good to hear. Well, we should be going. Keep the envelope. I understand your employer gave you trouble, so consider it reimbursement for your losses.
Take care.” The three men left. Maggie rushed to the window and stared. Outside her shabby building sat a line of luxury SUVs—five of them.
Well, that was something. She opened the envelope and counted the cash. It was an enormous amount—more money than a cab driver like her would see in months. No one handed out that kind of money just to say thank you. She sat down, wide awake now.
“No. Something’s off here. For one thing, that man didn’t look like a worried father. Not even close. He looked cold. Calculating.
And why was he so intent on finding out whether Elijah had said anything? That means there’s something he doesn’t want repeated. And how did he get my address so fast? So this money isn’t gratitude—it’s hush money. No thanks. I need to go check on Elijah myself…
At the very least, I need to hear his side of this. And I’m off today anyway.” On the way, Maggie bought a few things and headed straight to the trauma ward where she had taken him. But she was stopped at the door. Confused, she said, “Why can’t I see him? I’ll only be a minute.
I just want to know how he’s doing. Please.” The commotion brought down the chief physician himself. In a cold voice he said, “I’m sorry, but rules are rules. You cannot visit Mr. Mitford. Overnight his condition worsened. He slipped into a coma and was moved to intensive care. No visitors are allowed.
You should leave now.” Maggie stared at him. “How is that possible? Yesterday he was hurt, yes, but conscious.
And now suddenly he’s in a coma? What’s his diagnosis?” The doctor waved her off. “Why would I discuss a patient’s condition with you? Who are you to him?”
“His father is with him and knows everything. If there’s any improvement, the family will let you know. At this point, the outlook is poor. Good day.”
Maggie left, fighting tears. Then a nurse called softly after her. The woman quickly pulled her into an empty supply room and whispered, “Don’t believe a word he said. You’re that poor guy’s fiancée, aren’t you?”
“I knew it. Listen carefully. There’s no coma. They’re keeping him sedated on purpose. I don’t know who gave the order or why, but I heard that the man claiming to be his father paid the chief doctor a lot of money and told him to make sure that patient never walks out of here. Ever. I stitched up his wounds myself yesterday. They were bad, but not life-threatening. Our chief is a gambler…
