In the message thread he'd never once replied to in four years, a notification appeared.

Julian: Don't do anything stupid.

Julian: I just transferred two million dollars to your account. Get the child into surgery now.

I didn't reply.

I gathered my daughter's body into my arms, held her close, and stepped off the windowsill.

Julian was already racing toward the hospital when his phone rang. His assistant's voice cracked through the speaker.

"Sir, it's bad. Ms. Harding jumped."