THE DUCKWOOD CONTRACT

Chapter 5— A Father's Life2

Her father rarely mentioned her mother when he was feeling unwell.

"She used to say that exact thing," he continued. "'I'll figure something out.' Even when she had absolutely no idea what she was doing."

Elena smiled faintly.

"Did she usually figure it out?"

"Most of the time."

"And the other times?"

"She made me figure it out."

They both laughed.

Then her father's expression became serious.

"Listen to me, Elena. I don't want you making yourself miserable because of me."

"Dad—"

"No, let me finish."

She fell silent.

"I know you're worried. And I know you've been spending money you should be saving for your own future. But I don't want you putting your entire life on hold."

Tears stung her eyes.

"You're my father."

"And you're my daughter. Which is exactly why I'm saying this."

She shook her head.

"I can't just sit around and do nothing."

"I'm not asking you to do nothing. I'm asking you to remember that you have a life outside these hospital walls."

Elena looked at their joined hands.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

His expression softened.

"Then don't start imagining that just yet."

She swallowed.

"Promise me you'll keep fighting."

He smiled.

"I'll do my part. And you promise me you'll go home tonight, eat a proper meal, and get some sleep."

She hesitated.

"Elena."

"Fine."

"That's my girl."

She leaned forward and rested her forehead gently against his shoulder.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

And Elena wished, more than anything, that she could remain there long enough for the world outside to stop demanding things she didn't know how to give.

By the time Elena left the hospital, it was almost nine.

The evening air was cool, and the streets were crowded with people heading home.

She stood near the entrance for several minutes, staring at the financial estimate on her phone.

She had already calculated the amount four different ways.

Nothing changed.

Her savings wouldn't cover it.

Her salary wouldn't cover it.

Even if she borrowed money from everyone she knew, she would still be far from what they might need.

She opened her contacts and scrolled through the names.

There were people she could ask.

Former colleagues.

A distant relative.

A friend who had once offered to help if she ever needed anything.

But she knew none of them could provide an amount this large.

She closed the contact list.

A message appeared on her screen.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Have you given any thought to what I told you about your family, Miss Elena?

Elena stopped walking.

She read the message twice.

Then a third time.

Her first instinct was to ignore it.

But there was something unsettling about the wording.

What I told you about your family.

A memory returned immediately.

Alexander Duckwood.

His unexpected appearance.

His unnerving confidence.

And the warning he had given her.

Your family is already in danger. You just don't know it yet.

Elena's fingers tightened around her phone.

She typed a response.

Who is this?

The reply came almost immediately.

Alexander Duckwood.

Elena felt a chill travel down her spine.

She looked around instinctively.

People passed her without a second glance.

A taxi stopped beside the curb.

Someone laughed loudly behind her.

Everything looked ordinary.

But suddenly, she no longer felt comfortable standing alone.

She began walking toward the bus stop.

Her phone vibrated again.

I trust your father is receiving the attention he needs.

Elena stopped.

Her heart began pounding.

She stared at the message.

How did he know?

She had never mentioned her father's condition to him.

Not once.

She typed quickly.

How do you know about my father?

This time, there was no immediate response.

Elena waited.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Then her phone rang.

The same number.

She hesitated before answering.

"Hello?"

"Miss Elena."

His voice was unmistakable.

Calm.

Deep.

Completely unhurried.

"Mr. Duckwood."

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't answer."

"How did you get my number?"

"That's not the question you really want answered."

Elena stopped beside a closed storefront.

"Then answer the question I asked in my message."

A brief silence followed.

"Your father is unwell."

She felt her stomach tighten.

"How do you know that?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters! You don't get to appear in my life, say strange things about my family, and then call me as though we're friends."

"You're upset."

"Of course I'm upset!"

A couple walking past glanced in her direction.

Elena lowered her voice.

"Listen carefully, Mr. Duckwood. I don't know what you want from me, and frankly, I don't want to know. But I need you to stop contacting me."

"Even if I can help your father?"

She froze.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Elena pressed the phone closer to her ear.

"What exactly do you know about my father?"

"Enough to understand that his current treatment may not be sufficient."

Her breath caught.

Those were almost the same words Dr. Bennett had used.

"Who told you that?"

Alexander didn't answer immediately.

"Elena, there are medical specialists who may be able to help him."

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

"Then why won't you answer me?"

"Because right now, your father's treatment is more important than an argument about how I obtained the information."

Anger rose in her chest.

"You don't get to decide what's important to me."

Another silence.

Then Alexander spoke, his tone quieter.

"You're right."

Elena hadn't expected that.

She opened her mouth, but no words came.

"I understand why you're suspicious," he continued. "And you have every reason to be. But I also know you're running out of options."

Her eyes burned.

She hated how easily he had said it.

As though her desperation were something he could examine from the comfort of an expensive office.

"You know nothing about me," she whispered.

Alexander was silent for a moment.

"Perhaps not as much as you think."

Elena frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Have you spoken with the hospital's financial assistance department?"

She gripped the phone harder.

"Stop asking me questions about my father's treatment."

"Have you?"

"That's none of your business."

"Very well."

She expected him to hang up.

Instead, he continued.

"I know someone who can help arrange a specialist consultation for your father. Someone with access to the kind of medical care he may need."

Elena's heart began beating faster.

She didn't want to believe him.

She especially didn't want to need anything from him.

But the image of her father lying in that hospital bed returned to her mind.

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Why what?"

"Why would you help us?"

Alexander paused.

"Because I can."

"That's not a reason."

"It's a beginning."

Elena shook her head.

"I don't understand you."

"You don't have to. Not tonight."

"Then what do you want?"

There was a longer silence.

For a moment, she thought the call had disconnected.

Then Alexander spoke.

"I can help your father, Elena. But before I do, there are certain conditions we need to discuss."

Her chest tightened.

"Conditions?"

"Yes."

"What kind of conditions?"

"Not over the phone."

Elena looked toward the hospital entrance behind her.

Only an hour earlier, she had been sitting beside her father, promising herself that she would find a way to help him.

Now a man she barely knew was offering her something she desperately needed.

And somehow, that frightened her more than the hospital bills.

"Mr. Duckwood..."

"Think about what I've said," Alexander interrupted gently. "You don't have to give me an answer tonight."

Elena swallowed.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then that will be your decision."

She stared at the passing traffic.

"Why do I have a feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

Alexander remained silent.

Then, finally, he answered.

"Because there is."

The call ended.

Elena slowly lowered her phone.

She stood beneath the streetlights, surrounded by strangers, with the sound of traffic filling the night.

Her father's medical estimate remained folded inside her handbag.

Alexander Duckwood's words echoed in her mind.

There are certain conditions we need to discuss.

And for the first time, Elena wondered whether saving her father's life might demand something from her that money alone could never measure.