Chapter 181

The sharp click of stilettos echoed through the hallway.

Isabella clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms.

She whirled around, her gaze slicing through the air like a blade.

"Sophia Lowell, just you wait!"

Before she could finish, her foot slipped.

The ten-inch heel twisted violently beneath her.

A searing pain shot up from her ankle, radiating through her entire body.

She collapsed onto the steps, her carefully styled curls now a tangled mess.

"Ah—!"

Her scream drew startled glances from passersby.

Isabella's face paled, beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead.

She stared at her swollen ankle, fury burning in her eyes.

"This is all your fault..."

The words hissed through gritted teeth.

......

The emergency room lights glared harshly.

Ethan Roscente carried Sophia into the hospital, drawing countless stares.

"Move!"

His voice was icy, his entire aura warning others to keep their distance.

Doctors rushed forward.

The examination lasted half an hour.

"The patient is experiencing a PTSD episode."

The doctor removed his mask, brow furrowed.

Ethan's expression darkened. "Meaning?"

"Similar to post-traumatic stress disorder," the doctor explained carefully. "She may have been triggered by a confined space."

Memories of the elevator flashed through Ethan's mind.

His jaw tightened. "Can it be treated?"

The doctor shook his head. "Psychological trauma takes time."

After a pause, he added, "However..."

The blare of an ambulance siren cut through the air.

Medical staff rushed past with a stretcher.

"The patient is pregnant and needs—"

The rest was drowned out by the noise.

Ethan frowned. "What?"

But the doctor had already turned toward the emergency room.

The hospital room was so quiet the drip of the IV could be heard.

Sophia lay on the bed, her lashes casting shadows on her pale face.

Ethan stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear.

"Find out everything about her past."

Hanging up, he turned to study the figure on the bed.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, tracing soft contours on her face.

This version of Sophia was both unfamiliar and achingly familiar.

He stepped closer, fingers hovering just above her cheek.

In the end, he only adjusted the blanket gently.

"What exactly... have you been through?"

Outside, dusk settled.

Ethan opened his laptop, the blue glow illuminating his sharp profile.

The room filled with the quiet tap of keys.

And the steady rhythm of breathing.