“I’m sorry,” the nurse replied firmly. “We don’t share employee information.” Maya stepped outside and leaned against a cold concrete pillar. Her hands were trembling now. Wife? Address unknown? Aiden had said nothing.
Not during recovery, not when she offered her kidney, not when he vanished. Her stomach twisted. Her chest tightened like a vice. The ache in her side—still healing from the surgery—flared as she slumped onto a bench just outside the hospital.
Her fingers shook as she unlocked her phone. She typed: “You’re married? Were you married the whole time? How could you do this to me?” She hit send. A second message followed immediately: “I gave you part of my body.
My future. You vanished like I was nothing. What the hell is wrong with you?” Send. No reply. Just her reflection staring back at her in the glass. Pale. Unsteady. Betrayed. She went home in silence. No music. No calls.