I was just content fodder for Naomi Henson.
And now, so was my son's life.
A nurse burst through the double doors, grabbing my arm. Her eyes were wild with panic.
"Mrs. Mason, you have to get rid of them! They've broken into the emergency room. We can't operate with them in the way!"
I called security. I called the police. But the paparazzi surged forward like a tide, unstoppable.
Trembling, I ran to the dean's office where Joel was taking a meeting. I didn't bother knocking.
"Call them off." My voice cracked down the middle. "The doctor says Benjamin is critical. Make them leave!"
Joel slowly removed his earphones. His expression didn't flicker.
"It's just a few cameras, Anna. They aren't holding the doctor's scalpel. Benjamin is the heir to the Mason family; if he can't handle a little exposure, how will he survive in this world?"
A dismissive wave. "It's a minor bump. Stop being dramatic."
His assistant stepped forward, softly urging me to leave.
Before I could scream, the office door swung open. Naomi Henson walked in, looking every inch the professional elite in a silk blouse and heels, a triumphant smile playing at her lips.
She had come to share the news of her promotion.
Her arrival drew eyes immediately; a passerby in the hall lifted a phone to snap a picture.
Joel's face instantly darkened. He lunged forward, snatching the phone from the stranger's hand.
"Delete it," he snarled. "The internet is too toxic. She has a gentle spirit; she isn't built for public scrutiny. Do not post her face online!"
My throat turned to sandpaper.
Naomi Henson couldn't be exposed. Couldn't be judged. Had to be shielded.
But me?
I had to be stripped of every shred of dignity for her career.
*In Joel's eyes, what am I?*
I walked out of the office like a corpse, moving only by muscle memory. Around the corner, I collided with the nurse.
Her face was gray.
"We... we were delayed too long," she whispered. "The rescue failed."
A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the cold tile floor.
The paparazzi, finally grasping the gravity of what they'd done, lowered their cameras. Pale-faced, they slipped away one by one, like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
From the lounge nearby, intimate laughter drifted out. Joel and Naomi were celebrating, oblivious to the silence in the hall.
With the last ounce of strength left in my body, I dialed the number my father had left me.