Mr. Travis Sanders?

"Yes," he replied, annoyed. His assistant had interrupted a high-level meeting, and he wanted the stranger to get to the point. "What's this about?"
–Imogen Gantry, is she your wife?

"We're divorced," he replied, lowering his voice and looking around. "Are you a journalist?"

–I'm trying to reach your next of kin. I'm calling from...

And he named it after one of the most overcrowded public hospitals in New York.

The rage that had been stirred by the mere mention of his ex's name exploded, leaving him blind, falling off a cliff, the wind thundering in his ears and unable to breathe.
"What happened?" he managed to say.

His eyes were closed, but she was standing right in front of him, laughing, her green eyes shining, her hair a halo of flames flickering around her snowy skin. So enchantingly beautiful, yet suddenly so filled with anger. So hurt and vulnerable that last time he'd seen her.

He had told her that he didn't want to see her again, although deep down he hoped that wasn't the case.
In the distance he heard the woman continue talking.

–He fainted on the street. He had a fever and was unconscious. Do you know if he's taking any medication? He's awaiting treatment.
but...
–He hasn't died?

He knew it had sounded like this was his preferred outcome, but Imogen was a master at making him believe one thing, twisting his emotions to unbearable extremes, and then sending him in the opposite direction.
–And they took her to that hospital? Why?

"I think he was the closest. He didn't have a phone number, and his name is the only one I could find on his bag. We need to know what to do regarding treatment and insurance. Can you provide that information?"

"Get in touch with her father," he replied, approaching the door to tell his assistant. "Find the number of Imogen Gantry's father. He works in publishing. I think his name starts with W. William?"

I didn't know him. I'd only heard her mention his name a couple of times. Fifteen years since they'd been married, and I barely knew anything about her!

"Wallace Gantry?" his assistant guessed. "Apparently, he passed away a few months ago," she replied, reading from the computer screen. The obituary stated that he had been preceded by his wife and eldest daughter, and that only his youngest, Imogen, was still alive.
Perfect.

He knew he shouldn't let himself be drawn into their orbit, but what else could he do?
–I'll be there as soon as possible.

Imogen remembered sitting on the sidewalk. It wasn't one of those beautiful avenues freshly washed by the rain, with a neatly trimmed lawn under ancient elms, facing a wide staircase leading to a double door.