I walked downstairs and found Sylvia sitting quietly on the sofa, her bag resting on her lap as she scrolled through her phone.
The moment she heard my footsteps, she looked up.
I tightened my grip on my phone. "Let’s go."
She slipped her phone into her bag, stood up, and slung it over her shoulder.
I glanced around the unusually quiet living room.
"Sir Martin!" I called. "Can I have my car keys?"
For a moment, there was no response. Just as I was about to call again—
"Here, Miss." The voice came from behind me.
I turned so quickly that I almost lost my balance.
Sir Martin stood there, holding my car keys.
"When did you get there?" I asked, placing a hand over my racing heart.
A faint smile crossed his face, but he didn’t answer. I shook my head, took the keys from him, and murmured, "Thank you."
I took the keys from him and headed toward the front door.
Sylvia walked beside me, her bag hanging from one shoulder.
The afternoon breeze greeted us as we stepped outside. I unlocked the car, and the headlights flashed in response.
I slid into the driver’s seat while Sylvia opened the passenger door and climbed in, settling her bag on her lap.
The engine started with a low hum. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and drove out of the driveway, heading straight for the hospital.
Please...
Dad has to be okay. I couldn’t imagine losing him.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel until my fingers ached. Beside me, Sylvia turned and looked at me. She didn’t say anything.
She simply watched me for a moment before quietly looking back out through the windshield.
Neither of us spoke again. I pressed harder on the accelerator.
The engine roared as the car sped through the nearly empty road. A while later, I drove into the hospital parking lot and parked the car.
My heart sank.
I switched off the engine. And for a few seconds, I just sat there, staring at the hospital building through the windshield.
The bright glass entrance blurred slightly as tears threatened to return. I took a slow, shaky breath.
A gentle warmth settled over my hand, and I looked down.
Sylvia had placed her hand over mine. When I turned to look at her, she didn’t smile. She only gave me a small nod. And I forced a faint smile in return.
I opened the driver’s door and stepped out without saying anything.
The hot afternoon air brushed against my face. Sylvia climbed out from the passenger side, her bag resting on her shoulder.
I locked the car with a press of the key fob. The beep echoed through the parking lot, and we hurried toward the hospital entrance and disappeared inside.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and quickly dialed Mr. Clifford’s number.
Ring!
Ring!
He answered before the third ring.
"Miss." His voice was calm, but I could hear the strain beneath it.
"What room is Dad in?" I asked, my eyes looking across the crowded hospital lobby.
"VIP Room 202." He said
"Okay."
I ended the call without another word and slipped my phone back into my pocket.
I turned to Sylvia. "Let’s go."
The lobby was busy with people moving in every direction. Wheelchairs rolled past us. Nurses hurried through the corridors carrying patient files. The faint smell of antiseptic lingered in the cool air.
We made our way to the reception desk. Two nurses looked up as we approached.
One was petite with her dark hair neatly pinned beneath her cap. The other was slightly older, her round face brightened by a welcoming smile.
"Excuse me," I said. "Could you please tell me where VIP Room 202 is?"
The younger nurse immediately pointed toward a hallway on the right. "Take the staircase on your right."
The older nurse nodded and continued. "When you get upstairs, walk straight ahead. You’ll see the sign for the VIP Wing. Just follow it, and Room 202 will be at the end of the corridor."
"Thank you." I said and turned without waiting another second.
Sylvia and I immediately headed toward the staircase, my heartbeat growing louder with every step we took.
Sylvia and I hurried through the corridor, our footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.
The room numbers blurred together as my eyes searched desperately.
198...
199...
200...
201...
Then I saw it.
202.
My heart pounded painfully against my chest. I barely paused long enough to knock before pushing the door open.
The room was unnaturally quiet.
"...Mom."
She slowly turned at the sound of my voice. For a second, I almost didn’t recognize her.
Her eyes were red and swollen. Her face was pale. She looked like she hadn’t stopped crying since she got here.
Even now, her hands were trembling slightly at her sides.
"Mom," I called again as I hurried toward her.
She looked at me and forced a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Then my gaze moved past her. And everything inside me seemed to stop.
Dad lay unconscious on the hospital bed. An oxygen mask covered his face. Clear tubes ran from the IV into the back of his hand.
Several monitors surrounded him, their screens glowing with green and blue lines that rose and fell with every steady beep.
The rhythmic sound of the heart monitor filled the room.
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
Seeing him like that. So still. So fragile.
It didn’t feel real.
I stood rooted to the spot, staring at him, unable to make my legs move another step.
Sylvia slowly walked over to Mom. Without saying anything at first, she gently wiped away the tears clinging to the corners of her eyes.
"It’s okay, Mom," she whispered before pulling her into a gentle hug.
The moment she did, Mom broke down all over again.
"I’ve never..." she sobbed. "I’ve never seen your father like this before." Her voice trembled.
"How am I supposed to bear this?"
Sylvia tightened her embrace. "It’s okay," she murmured, gently rubbing Mom’s back.
"Everything will be alright. You have to believe that."
I remained where I was. Unable to move. Unable to think.
The steady beeping of the heart monitor echoed through the room.
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
Finally, I forced my legs to move.
One slow step. Then another.
Slowly, I walked towards Dad’s bed until I was standing beside him.
The tears that had been stinging my eyes finally rolled down my cheeks. I reached out with trembling hands and gently held his. His hand felt colder than usual.
"Dad..." My voice cracked. "Amelia’s here."
I swallowed hard. "Please wake up."
There was no movement. Not even a slight reaction. Only the machines answered me.
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision.
No.
This wasn’t right. Dad always answered me.
Always.
"Dad..." I called again, forcing a shaky smile through my tears.
"If you don’t wake up..."
"I’ll really get angry with you."
I waited just one moment. One squeeze of my hand.
Anything. But there was nothing.
The hope inside me shattered. My fingers slowly slipped from his hand.
I took a small step backward, my knees threatening to give way beneath me.
I looked toward Mom and Sylvia. Both of them were already watching me. Their eyes were filled with the same helplessness I was feeling.
The tears I had been trying so hard to hold back burst free. A sob escaped my lips. I couldn’t stop crying.
Just then—
The door suddenly swung open. Footsteps rushed into the room.
Before I could even turn around, someone threw their arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace.
Slowly, I turned toward the person holding me. My eyes widened immediately.
"Daniela..."
She was breathing lightly, as though she had run all the way here. A few loose strands of hair had escaped her ponytail, framing her face.
"Why are you here?" I managed to ask between sobs.
Daniela didn’t answer right away. Instead, she lifted a hand and gently brushed the tears from my cheeks with her thumb.
A small frown settled on her face. "I don’t like seeing you cry." Her voice was quiet and soft.
A faint smile appeared on my lips. But it disappeared just as quickly as it came.
...Wait.
Something about those words felt familiar.
My brows slowly knitted together. I had heard them before.
"Lia." A familiar voice cut through my thoughts.
I blinked and turned toward the doorway.
Camila was standing there.
Her head was tilted slightly to one side, her arms spread wide, and a small smile rested on her lips.
"Need a hug?" she asked.
I looked at her for a second. Then I nodded, my lower lip trembling into a pout.
Without thinking, I ran straight into her arms.
She caught me effortlessly. Her embrace tightened around me as one hand gently stroked the back of my head.
"It’s okay," she whispered.
For the first time since arriving at the hospital, I felt like I could breathe again.
After a while, I slowly pulled away. "Thanks, Cam," I said quietly.
She blinked before giving a small nod. Then bent slightly, patted my head, and smiled.
"You’re welcome, my little kitten."
A small laugh almost escaped me. "Who said I’m your kitten?"
Her smile only grew.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she straightened up and walked toward Mom. "Auntie," she called softly.
Mom looked up at her.
"I’m sorry for everything," Camila said. "My mom told me what happened. I came here as soon as possible."
Mom’s eyes softened. "It’s okay, my daughter."
Just then, the door opened again. The doctor walked into the room.
I hurried toward him. "Doctor..." I asked anxiously, searching his face.
"How’s my dad?"
The doctor turned to me with a reassuring smile. "He’s stable, Miss."
Relief washed over me for barely a second before he continued. "He’s out of danger... for now."
"For now?"
The words left both Sylvia’s and my lips at the same time.
The doctor gave a small nod and walked over to Dad’s bedside. His expression grew serious as he turned to Mom.
"He’s stable for now. The surgery was successful, but the next twenty-four hours are critical. We’ve stopped the internal bleeding, but his body has been through significant trauma. We’ll continue monitoring him closely."
I slowly lowered my head, my heart beginning to pound again. The relief I had felt only seconds ago vanished.
Why did the doctor say Dad was stable... for now?
Stable... for now.
The words echoed over and over inside my head. My eyes widened.
No...
Could it be...
Was Dad’s condition more serious than the doctor was letting on?
Then another thought crashed into me. I looked up immediately and turned to Dad.
Dad never got into accidents. He always traveled with trained security drivers. His routes were carefully planned.
So...
How did this happen? My heartbeat quickened.
Who caused Dad’s accident? And more importantly...
If it wasn’t an accident...
Who wanted my Dad dead?
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