The Blind Wife's Desperate Sacrifice

The hard plastic of the cafeteria chair dug into Adriane's spine.

She sat in the noisy, crowded hospital food court. Both of her hands wrapped tightly around a paper cup of free hot water. The heat seeped into her freezing palms, but it did nothing to stop the violent shaking in her shoulders.

Heavy, measured footsteps approached her table. A leather briefcase hit the plastic tabletop with a dull thud.

"Ms. Owens."

The voice was flat, professional, and entirely devoid of empathy. Adriane's stomach dropped. She sat up straight.

"I am Franklin Adler, legal counsel for the Barnett family," the man said, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses.

Adler unzipped his briefcase. He pulled out a thick stack of papers and slid them across the table until they touched Adriane's fingertips.

"Mr. Barnett requires your signature on this revised divorce settlement today," Adler stated mechanically.

Adriane traced the edge of the paper. Her throat felt like it was coated in sand. "If I sign this... can I get the two hundred thousand dollars today?"

Adler looked down at her with mild disgust. "As per standard trust fund procedures, the capital will be released into your account in exactly thirty business days."

Adriane jumped to her feet. Her knee hit the table. The cup of hot water tipped over, spilling across the plastic and splashing onto her worn trench coat.

"Thirty days?" Adriane screamed, her voice cracking with hysteria. "My brother doesn't have thirty days! He has less than forty-eight hours! I need the cash now!"

Adler took a clean step back, avoiding the dripping water. His face remained completely blank. "That is not my concern, Ms. Owens."

He placed a heavy, gold-plated pen on top of the wet papers.

"You have ten minutes to decide. If you do not sign, you will not receive the compensation in thirty days, either."

Adler turned on his heel and walked out to the hallway, leaving her alone.

Adriane reached out and touched the cold metal of the pen. A violent shudder ripped through her body.

In the face of Chase's absolute power, she didn't even have the right to sell her own marriage to save her brother. She was completely trapped.

Her legs gave out. She sank back into the chair, buried her face in her hands, and let out a low, agonizing wail.

Suddenly, a heavy, warm cashmere coat settled over her shaking shoulders. It smelled faintly of clean laundry and expensive men's cologne.

"Adriane?"

The voice was deep, warm, and incredibly familiar.

Adriane gasped and lifted her head. Even through the gray fog, she knew that voice. Dr. Deandre Garrison. Her old college friend.

Deandre stood there, looking down at her tear-stained face and the divorce papers on the table. A deep frown creased his forehead. "Adriane? I just saw your missed call. I was in a seminar all morning. What's wrong?" he asked, his tone laced with immediate concern.

He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. With extreme gentleness, he reached out and wrapped his large, warm hands over her trembling, wet fingers.

He looked closely at her hollow, red eyes. A flash of intense pain and anger crossed his face.

"What happened?" Deandre asked softly.

Adriane broke. The words poured out of her in a frantic, stuttering mess. She told him about Barry, the failing kidneys, the deadline, and the money she couldn't get.

Deandre did not hesitate for a single second.

"I will get the money," Deandre said firmly. "I will cover the surgery."

Adriane froze. Her breath hitched. She stared blankly in his direction, unable to process the words. In a world that had shown her nothing but cruelty, someone was offering her a lifeline.

Deandre picked up a napkin and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Outside the cafeteria, Adler checked his luxury watch. He walked back to the table, ready to collect the papers.

Deandre stood up. He stepped in front of Adriane, using his broad shoulders to completely shield her from the lawyer. Deandre's eyes were cold and sharp.

He snatched the divorce papers off the table and slammed them hard into Adler's chest.

"Tell Chase Barnett to back the hell off," Deandre growled.

Adler caught the papers. He sneered, adjusting his suit jacket. "A very poor decision, Doctor."

Adler turned and left. Behind Deandre's protective back, Adriane took her first full breath in days.