Daughters are useless anyway.

The wheels of Xavier's luxury SUV screeched as he threw the car into a reckless turn, barreling down the tree-lined driveway to Dr. Martin's secluded home. Gravel spewed out behind him, the engine's roar shattering the morning's calm. He skidded to a halt, and before the dust could even settle, he saw Dr. Martin, a silhouette against the porch light, his face etched with urgency.

"Bring her inside," Dr. Martin barked, gesturing sharply towards the door. "It's too late for the hospital. She's lost too much blood."

Xavier's heart hammered as he carried Cathleen, her breaths shallow and ragged, her body limp in his arms. Inside, the smell of antiseptics hit him like a physical blow. He followed Dr. Martin to a room that seemed far too sterile and cold for anything warm or living.

"Wait outside," Dr. Martin ordered, but Xavier's response was immediate and fierce, his voice a growl of desperation.

"No, I'm staying with my wife."

Dr. Martin's eyes widened, taken aback by the intensity in Xav