Chapter 3 - THE SMELL OF COPPER AND ROSES|
The rain had transformed Halsted Street into a slick, reflected mirror of red neon lights. The sign for Elena’s Flowers hung crookedly by a single rusted hinge.
Vincent pushed open the shattered glass door. The small brass bell chimed weakly, a pathetic sound in a ruined room.
The air inside was thick with a sickening mixture of copper, damp soil, and crushed lilies. Glass shards covered the floor like ice. Overturned pots spilled dark dirt over the welcome mat.
Behind the counter lay a woman.
She was young—maybe early thirties—wearing an apron soaked in blood. Dark hair was plastered across her swollen face. Her arm was thrown awkwardly over a broken ceramic vase, as if her last conscious act had been trying to shield herself from another blow.
"Mama!" Sophie cried out, trying to leap out of Vincent’s grip.
Vincent caught her by the waist, holding her back firmly but gently. "Stay here, Sophie. Don't look."
"Is she sleeping?" Sophie whimpered, her voice breaking into a terrified scream. "Mama, wake up! I brought help!"
Dr. Chen rushed past them, accompanied by two EMTs carrying a gurney. He dropped to his knees instantly, checking her pulse and shining a penlight into her eyes.
"Severe head trauma," Chen muttered, his fingers working rapidly with gauze. "Internal bleeding. She’s slipping fast, Vincent."
"Will she survive?" Vincent demanded, standing over them like a dark sentinel.
Chen didn't look up as they hoisted the limp body onto the gurney. "If I can get her onto my operating table in six minutes, maybe. Otherwise, she’s dead."
As the EMTs wheeled Elena out into the rain, Sophie stood frozen, watching her mother's pale face disappear under an oxygen mask.
Vincent looked at the floor—at the pool of blood mixing with yellow rose petals. Something long buried inside him snapped.
"Tony," Vincent called out into the quiet shop.
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"Yeah, Boss?"
"Tell Sal to bring the heavy tools to the warehouse. I'm coming down."
