The Canary Who Became Doctor

The day Sebastian Cross finally let me go, he promised to grant me one wish.

I didnt ask for the diamonds or the portfolio of stocks he expected. I asked for a slice of buttercream cake.

The love my own family was too bankrupt to give me, my benefactor had provided in spades.

After I finish this birthday cake, Ill have no regrets left.

He wants to build a home with the one that got away.

And me? Its time I walked my own path.

01

This was the first time Sebastian had ever spent New Years Eve with me.

On the stove, a pot of lobster bisque bubbled, filling the kitchen with a rich, savory steam.

The man placed the final dishsauted kale with garlicon the marble island, untied his apron, and called me over to eat.

His voice was like aged whiskey, smooth and low.

Sebastian comes from old moneyBoston Brahmins on his fathers side. Strictly speaking, hes only a quarter Chinese, a heritage he rarely acknowledges. He prefers medium-rare steaks and vintage Pinot Noir.

Today, perhaps as a parting kindness, the table was filled with the comfort foods I loved, including dumplings hed folded himself, clumsy but earnest.

When I was a child, my parents would take me to McDonalds to keep me happy right before they tried to abandon me at a rest stop.

So when Sebastian finally said the wordsYou should goI wasnt surprised.

Happiness, after all, always comes with a price tag.

"What do you want, Hazel?" Sebastian stirred his bisque, looking bored, as if discussing the chance of rain. "Gold? A property deed? Diamonds?"

Elegant, aristocratic men like him always discard their canaries in the most dignified way possible.

The bisque had a kick of ginger in it; it burned pleasantly going down.

I lowered my eyes for a moment, then told him. "I want a cake."

He paused. "That's it?"

Yes. That's it.

A sponge cake with layers of fresh fruit and buttercream, topped with chocolate shavings. The kind my little brother got every single year, and I never tasted once.

"Hazel, think this through before you answer. I don't want us to have any messy entanglements later." He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "Madeleine is... insecure. I need a clean break."

How could there be entanglements?

Sebastian had been good to me. He gave me money. He gave me a semblance of love. He filled the hollow spaces my parents had carved out of me.

Once I eat this cake, were square.

If he wants to give his lost love a home, I won't stand in the doorway.

02

The day I met Sebastian, I was standing on the ledge of a rooftop parking garage.

Passersby below were screaming, chirping like birds, telling me to "look on the bright side."

A firefighter had dialed my parents. I could hear them screaming through the receiver, loud enough for the wind to carry the words.

If you want to die, hurry up and die! We can use the insurance money to build your brother a house!

The wind was biting. The drop was high.

Jumping meant freedom.

But just as I leaned forward, a handsome man in gold-rimmed glasses sprinted toward me, grabbing my arm with a grip like iron. The emerald face of his Patek Philippe watch caught the sunlight, blinding me for a second.

He didn't offer platitudes. He offered me a giant, fluffy stick of cotton candy hed seemingly conjured from nowhere.

His voice was trembling.

"The carnival closes at five," he said. "We can still make it. Will you come with me?"

I sat on a carousel horse, eating that cotton candy bite by bite, sugar melting on my tongue.

I stayed with Sebastian for five years after that.

In a way, he raised the child I never got to be.

...

Sebastian was an easy patron to please.

Emotionally stable, incredibly wealthy, low maintenance.

I didnt have to worry about student loans or a 9-to-5. All I had to do was focus on him, and the Cartier bracelets and investment accounts piled up.

His upbringing had instilled in him a deep, reflexive gentlemanliness. Even though I was just a plaything, he respected every word I said, every request I made.

Except in bed.

Sebastians friends whispered that hed get bored of me in six months. But year after year, I remained by his side, a fixture in his sprawling estate.

See? Fate hasnt been entirely cruel to me.

After twenty years of bitterness, it finally gave me a piece of candy.

The staff at the Palisades Estate loved to gossip. She looks just like Miss Madeleine, theyd whisper.

Madeleine Vance. The one who rejected Sebastians proposal to pursue her art career in Paris. The ghost of his past.

I didnt mind looking like Madeleine.

I looked like my brother, too, and my parents didn't give me a scrap of the love they gave him.

But because I looked like Madeleine, Sebastian gave me so much.

Im easy to satisfy.

Ive seen the flowers bloom; I don't need to own the garden.

03

Sebastian told me to pack slowly. A driver would take me from the estate the next morning.

That night, I meticulously packed five years worth of jewelry, gold bars, and luxury watches into a small suitcase. The restclothes, shoes, memorieswere worthless. I left them behind.

Seattles weather is schizophrenic.

Last night it was snowing; this morning, it was freezing rain. The sleet hit the windows like handfuls of gravel.

The driver called, sounding apologetic.

"Miss Hazel, Miss Madeleine is landing today. Shes frail and hates the cold, so weve taken all the cars to the airport to greet her. Youll have to get down the mountain on your own."

I hung up and looked out the window.

When I first started seeing Sebastian, I didn't understand him.

Once, after a gala, it was pouring rain. I thought he had left already, so I covered my head with my clutch and ran to the curb to hail a cab.

But Sebastian came back. He stepped out of the shadows and pulled me under a massive black umbrella. His handmade Italian suit got soaked instantly, but not a drop touched my silk dress.

He told me he hadn't left; hed just gone to get the umbrella.

A gentleman never lets a lady get wet.

Since then, no matter how busy he was, or what country he was in, there was always an umbrella waiting for me. He never missed a beat.

The memory faded. I smiled a thin, dry smile and pulled my suitcase into the downpour.

The rain was heavy.

But it was time to go.

I couldn't spend my whole life waiting for someone else to hold the umbrella.

04

I used to be resilient. As a kid, I could shake off a fracture or a 102-degree fever without a flinch.

But this time, the freezing rain turned into pneumonia. I ended up in the ER, hooked up to an IV.

On the last day of my treatment, a woman rushing down the corridor snagged her purse on my IV line.

The needle and tape were ripped violently from the back of my hand. The metal tore a long gash through my skin before flying out. Blood sprayed onto the tiles, and my vision went black from the pain.

"Oh my god! What do I do?"

"I just got back to the States, I don't know how this works here! I'm calling my fianc!"

When Sebastian appeared, I froze.

I looked up at the frantic, helpless woman clinging to him. Seeing her eyesso similar to mine, yet so much softerI knew instantly.

The blood dripping onto the hospital floor made Sebastian frown. He stared at it, silent.

Maybe the silence stretched too long.

Madeleine wrapped her arm around his, asking in a voice that dripped with affected sweetness, "Sebastian, honey, what's wrong? Do you know her?"

For a split second, I saw a storm of emotions in Sebastians dark eyes.

But he blinked, snapping back to reality, and draped his coat over Madeleines shoulders.

"No. A stranger."

"The doctors will handle it. Let's get you back to the car."

Madeleine nodded obediently.

As she turned, she shot me a look. It was a mix of provocation and victory.

05

That night, a call from an unknown number came through to my new phone.

It was a man's voice, low and husky, with that post-coital rasp I knew too well.

"Hazel. I'm sending a driver to take you to a private clinic tomorrow for the rest of your treatment. I didn't want Madeleine to overthink things today."

"Make sure the doctor stitches that hand properly."

"And eat something. You're too thin."

I agreed to everything, sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, staring at the wall.

Why, after I changed my number, could Sebastian still find me?

Are we strangers or not?

There was a long silence on the line.

Just as I thought he was going to hang up, he spoke again, his voice tight.

"I didn't know New Year's was your birthday. No wonder you asked for the cake... You could have stayed one more day, you know. I'm sorry."

"Happy Birthday."

Don't be sorry.

Youve given me enough.

"Thank you," I said. "And congratulations on your engagement."

...

I only needed five days of IVs. I had already booked a flight out of Seattle.

So when Sebastians driver showed up at the hotel the next day, I turned him away.

The driver, looking panicked, pulled a beautifully wrapped box from the trunk and practically begged me to take it.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't drive you the other day, Miss Hazel. I know I messed up. Please, take the birthday gift. If you don't, Mr. Cross might fire me."

Inside the box was an evening gown encrusted with pink diamonds. It was breathtaking.

The receipt was tucked inside.

If Sebastian insisted on giving it, who was I to say no to money?

My flight wasn't for a few hours. I figured I could hit the luxury mall near the airport and return the dress for store credit or cash.

There were several boutiques in Seattle. I picked the one closest to the terminal.

Fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor.

Madeleine was there.

06

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss, but this Spring Couture piece has already been sold. Each design is one-of-a-kind."

"We know you've been on the waitlist, but a gentleman purchased it this morning."

"Since the size wouldn't fit you anyway, perhaps you'd like to see the new collection..."

The sales associates were swarming around Madeleine, trying to do damage control.

Madeleine wasn't having it. She flipped her long, wavy hair, complaining loudly in a mix of English and French about incompetence.

Suddenly, she raised an eyebrow and tapped a manicured red fingernail on the manager's name tag.

"I want that dress as my wedding morning robe. If I don't get it, I will email your headquarters every single day until you are fired."

The manager was sweating. She whispered to a colleague, asking if they could contact the buyer, a Mr. S. Cross.

Madeleines eyes lit up.

"You mean my fianc bought it? Oh! It's a misunderstanding then..."

Behind her, clutching the box with the dress inside, I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach.

I turned to leave.

Too late.

She saw me.

She looked at me, realizing slowly what was happening.

Then, a sneer curled her lip. She stepped forward and slapped me across the face.

"Call the police! My husband bought that dress for me, and this... nobody has stolen it! Catch the thief!"