"Please, doc. Please save my grandkid!"
"What's gone down? How'd she end up face down in the snow?"
Mrs. Elliott stood outside the OR, her old hands shaking uncontrollably.
It was Christmas in Pennsly City, but joy was nowhere to be found in the Elliott household. Every single one of them anxiously stared at the red light of the OR.
Marcus Elliot, the boss of the Elliott Group, looked decidedly grim as he shot an ice-cold glare at the kid next to him.
A three to four-year-old girl. As pale and beautiful as a porcelain doll. Clutching her tattered bunny doll, her eyes were painted with confusion and fear.
"Little troublemaker! Did you give Clover the shove?" Marcus asked.
Old man Elliott, Marcus' dad, also flipped his lid hearing this, and barked, "Your Aunt Pearce is carrying your little brother. She's already six months in! If anything happens to her, I'll whoop your ass!"
Tears twirled in the little girl’s eyes. She pouted and said with a small voice, "I... I didn't push her..."
"Now you're being lip!" Just as Old man Elliott was about to let loose, the OR door swung open.
The doc stepped out and the Elliotts swarmed him, leaving the little girl alone, clutching the hem of her dress. Big eyes filled with anxiety and fear.
"I'm afraid the baby couldn't be saved."
The doc's words hit like a punch in the gut.
"What?" Mrs. Elliot nearly collapsed. She pounded her chest and cried, "My dear grandson, my sweet grandson is gone!"
Marcus staggered backward, feeling like he'd been smashed with a sledgehammer.
"Marcus..." a faint voice echoed. Clover Pearce, wheeled out on a gurney by the nurses.
Marcus rushed forward to clutch her hand, asking, "Clover, how ya holdin' up?"
"I... I'm okay..." Clover answered weakly through a tear stained face, "Don't blame Sweetie. She didn't mean it..."
With these words she put Sweetie in the hot seat.
Fuming, Marcus shifted his gaze to Sweetie, shouting, "So, you DID push her!"
He recalled Clover mentioning that Sweetie didn't want a little brother for fear she'd no longer be the apple of their eye.
He didn't trust it then!
And now...
"Daddy... I... didn't..." The little girl whined, her eyes red and watery.
"You got the nerve!" Marcus yelled.
The baby Clover had been carrying for six months didn't make it. She was in critical condition twice from heavy bleeding!
And the first thing she did when she woke up was plead for Sweetie.
But this rotten kid wouldn't confess!
Marcus lunged forward, grabbing her collar, hoisting her little frame up.
"You're jinxed, you killed my son! I swear I'll whoop your ass!"
With that, he roughly dropped her on the ground.
The girl let out an anguished scream as she tumbled down.
A doc nearby shouted, "Mr. Elliott! Cool it, this is a hospital!"
Marcus sneered, "I can't whip her in the hospital? Fine!"
He'd make her pay once they got home!
He scooped up Sweetie and stormed out of the hospital.
With winter in full swing, the wind was sharp and merciless.
Sweetie sat, huddled in the backseat, her small body shaking while her face masked in terror.
Soon, they pulled into the driveway of Jimaple Villa.
At the Elliott mansion, Marcus pulled Sweetie out of the car and tossed her in the yard.
Finding a stick, he swung it down on Sweetie repeatedly.
"You rotten thing! You're dirt cheap, just like your cursed mother!"
"You pair of jinxes, you came to screw me over!"
"I'm gonna beat you to oblivion! I'll end you!"
Sweetie bit her lip, refusing to cry out.
Marcus pummeled her until his phone slipped out of his pocket unnoticed. He finally stopped when he saw Sweetie collapsed on the ground, barely breathing.
"Kneel here and reflect on your sins! You're to touch no grass till Clover checks out of the hospital!"
He flung the stick aside, spat, and stormed off.
The Elliott crowd was already in shambles. This little menace had made matters worse and lost him his cherished son he'd been waiting on for six months!
Having dealt with the hospital, he still had to call in favors just to keep the company floating; otherwise they'd be dead in the water and in neck-deep debt!
Thinking of the shitshow, he wanted nothing more than to extinguish Sweetie.
She’d truly brought misfortune upon the family!
After Marcus split, Sweetie spat out blood onto the snow.
Her bunny doll had suffered a beating too. She held it tight and felt life slipping away.
Could she now join her mother?
She needed to tell her mom that she didn't push Aunt Clover. But why did no one believe her...
As Sweetie started to fade, she thought she heard a voice in her ear...
"Sweetie, hurry, call your uncles for help!"
"The number to your uncle is 12605…"
A call?
Sweetie’s survival instinct made her open her eyes to see the cellphone not far from her. Gnashing her teeth, she desperately crawled over, grabbed the phone, and punched in the number echoing in her mind.
Her fingers were frigid and stiff; she could hardly control them. It took a handful of attempts to get the call through successfully.
……
Meanwhile, at the Murphy Family Estate in the Capital City.
"Papa Murphy" looked weary as he spoke in a low tone, "Four years have passed already, any news of your sister?"
The eight heirs to the Murphy fortune wore grim expressions, tinged with sorrow.
Their only sister, Natalia Murphy, was diagnosed with leukemia at an early age and was brought up with love and care from the entire family. She was now 20 years old. Despite numerous treatments, including blood transfusions, anti-infections, and bone marrow transplants, her condition had deteriorated to affect her memory.
Four years ago, she disappeared out of the blue, plunging the entire Murphy family into pandemonium. Their search led nowhere, and the family was devastated. Mrs. Murphy fell ill and was moved to a sanatorium, while Papa Murphy rapidly aged over a decade.
The younger Murphy kids, too, were despondent and filled with guilt.
The one suffering the most was likely the youngest Murphy boy, Colton.
Colton spent most of his days researching cancers and was in charge of Natalia's treatment. When Natalia disappeared, Colton happened to rush off to another critically injured patient.
Following her disappearance, Colton spent every day in regret. His guilt hampered his passion in medical advancements.
Confronted with his father's question, Colton’s face turned pale, no words came out.
The search for his sister carried on for four years, but to no avail, they hadn't found any traces of her.
Silence enveloped the room, before a cellphone ringtone pierced through the quiet. Master Murphy barked, "Answer it! Put it on speaker! Let’s see what's keeping you busy all day!"
With sympathetic glances thrown his way, Colton reluctantly picked up the call and put it on speakerphone, a frail, young voice came across.
"Is…this…my uncle?"
