Part 2
Ivy rushed to her.
“Mom,” she whispered urgently. “I got it. I brought milk. Please wake up…”
No response.
Arthur stepped forward, the floor creaking beneath him. Ivy spun around in fear, clutching the formula protectively against her chest.
“Please don’t take it,” she said immediately, her eyes wide with terror. “I told the truth. I wasn’t lying.”
“I’m not here to take anything,” Arthur said, raising his hands slightly to show he meant no harm. “What’s your name?”
“…Ivy.”
“How long has your mom been like this, Ivy?”
“Two days… maybe more,” she said, her voice breaking. “She tried to get up, then she just… stopped.”
Arthur moved closer to the bed. The woman, Evelyn Sterling, was burning with a severe fever. Her skin was dry and ash-gray, her breathing shallow and raspy. He bent down and gently pressed two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was thready, barely fluttering.
He glanced over at the couch. The two twin boys were dangerously lethargic, their cries fading into thin, faint gasps.
Without hesitation, Arthur took out his phone and dialed emergency services.
“I need an ambulance at 1442 Miller’s Alley immediately,” Arthur said, his voice dropping into a tone of quiet, unyielding authority that left no room for delay. “Critical adult female, unresponsive with hyperpyrexia, and two malnourished infants. Send a pediatric unit as well.”
Ivy watched him, stunned. “Are they going to arrest us?”
Arthur knelt so he was at eye level with her. “No, Ivy. Nobody is arresting anyone. We’re going to get your mom and your brothers help.”
He took the cans of formula from her shaking hands, crossed to the makeshift kitchen, and found a clean bottle. With calm, practiced hands, he mixed the warm formula and gave one bottle to Ivy while he carefully lifted the second twin to feed him.
Within fifteen minutes, the alley rang with sirens.
Paramedics burst in, their boots heavy on the rotting floorboards. As they lifted Evelyn onto a stretcher and wrapped the babies in heated blankets, a police officer approached Arthur, recognizing him at once.
“Mr. Pendelton?” the officer asked, surprised to find one of the city’s most prominent defense attorneys in a dilapidated slum. “What happened here?”
“This family was abandoned,” Arthur said, his eyes hard as stone. “I want a full medical team assigned to Mrs. Sterling at St. Jude’s, and I want a social worker assigned who reports directly to me. I’m taking temporary personal guardianship of this girl until her mother recovers.”
The officer nodded quickly, taking notes. “Yes, sir.”
Arthur turned to Ivy and draped his heavy wool coat around her tiny, shivering shoulders. “Come on, Ivy. Let’s go make sure your family gets well.”
