After entering his room, Julia shut the door softly behind him. With a click, the light flicked on, bathing the familiar space in a warm glow.
He looked around, eyes pausing on the painting hanging on the far wall. It was a picture he had created long ago—an image crafted with hope and longing. A guide, he had once called it. A way to identify the sister he’d never met.
When drawing it, he’d imagined how she might look based on a careful blend of his parents’ features. Every stroke had meaning. Every color carried emotion. It wasn’t just a painting—it was a symbol, a reminder that somewhere out there, a part of him was still missing.
He had taken a shot of the painting with his phone and carefully saved it to ensure he didn’t lose it.
He stepped forward slowly, taking in every detail with new eyes. His heart thudded as he recalled the girl he’d seen earlier.
The resemblance was uncanny. Every detail seemed to match—except for the eyes. He hadn’t seen them. That one missing piece haunted him. Were they like his? Onyx flecked with gold? The thought lingered.
He sighed deeply and walked toward the bed. With a tired slump, he sat down and began unbuttoning his shirt.
The day had been long, stressful and exhausting in more ways than one. All he wanted was a quick shower and a few moments of quiet. With a long stride, he stepped into the bathroom.
Steam curled from the bathroom as he stepped out, towel slung over his shoulder, hair damp and tousled. Just as he reached for a shirt, his phone dinged.
A notification lit up the screen. He picked it up and glanced at the message. A summary report from Maxwell—his assistant. He skimmed it briefly, making a mental note to review it more thoroughly later.
Without hesitation, he dialed a number.
"Get me details of the Allen family," he said firmly. "And find out exactly how my sister became their wife."
He ended the call, rubbing his temple. He had more questions than answers. But one thing was certain—he was going to find out the truth.
Thanks to his steady recovery and relentless insistence, Davis’s therapy schedule had been revised. Jessica had split the sessions into two: morning and night. It was the best way to speed up progress without overexerting him.
After completing the morning session, Jessica changed into casual clothes and grabbed her bag. There was someone she needed to see—Matilda Santiago.
Despite the knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach, Jessica reminded herself of her role. A doctor must treat all patients equally, she told herself, regardless of personal emotions or fear.
As her car pulled into the hospital parking lot, she exhaled, gathering her phone and bag before reaching for the door. But before she could step out, a couple caught her attention.
Her eyes widened. It was Aaron. And beside him—a woman. His new wife.
Jessica instinctively sat back down in her seat, heart skipping a beat. They didn’t know she was in this city, much less in this country.
Both she and Davis had been reported missing. Their had always been in the same city but had always ensured they never crossed paths.
But what surprised her more than Aaron’s presence was the woman by his side. She was beautiful, graceful, but her face sparked a distant memory. Jessica couldn’t place it, but something about her felt... familiar.
Aaron walked slowly, helping the woman toward their car. He stopped every few steps, letting her catch her breath. Once, he even bent slightly as if to lift her, but she gently waved him off.
Jessica quietly took out her phone. With a few clicks, she snapped a clear photo and attached it to a message.
"Your good cousin is finally hooked."
She sent it to Davis, then stared at the image again. That face... why did it feel like she’d seen it before? Pushing the thought aside, she waited until their car disappeared, then stepped out and entered the hospital.
Before going to Matilda’s room, she made a brief stop at Bella’s office. The moment she entered, Bella looked up with a warm smile and quickly walked over to hug her tightly.
"Hey, you look like you’ve had a long day already," Bella said, guiding her to a seat.
Jessica smiled faintly. "I could say the same to you."
Bella made them tea, and the two women talked for a while about the current challenges Bella is facing at work.
Jessica also took her time to correct her in some aspects. Eventually, Jessica looked up and said, "Join me to visit Lady Santiago."
Bella froze mid-sip, her eyes locking on Jessica’s. "Matilda Santiago?"
Jessica nodded. "Yes. Why?"
"Are you... the attending doctor she requested recently?" Bella asked cautiously.
Jessica’s heart skipped. "Yes, I am. Why? What’s going on?"
Bella didn’t answer immediately. Her face had turned pale, her lips pressed tightly together. Jessica could feel tension mounting.
"Bella?" she asked, her voice quiet, urgent.
Bella finally spoke. "Sis... it’s not good. That’s all I can say."
Fear settled like ice in Jessica’s veins. "Is she dead?" she whispered.
Bella paused for a long moment before slowly shaking her head. "No. But... it’s not optimistic."
Jessica’s heart felt like it dropped into her stomach. She suddenly struggled to breathe, her hands trembling in her lap.
"Sister-in-law, please calm down," Bella pleaded. "I won’t be able to explain it to my brother if anything happens to you."
At the mention of Davis, Jessica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to stay composed. But her fear wasn’t going away.
For the first time in a long while, she was terrified. Terrified not as a doctor, but as a human being. Losing a patient had never shaken her . But now... she was scared.
She stood abruptly, rushed to the door, and all but ran down the hallway. Her footsteps coming in strides that Bella had to run to keep up with her pace.
Outside Matilda’s private ward, she slowed down. The world felt like it was spinning. But she closed her eyes, steadied her breath, and pushed the door open.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense and silent. Several people stood around, some whispering, others simply staring.
As Jessica entered, the crowd instinctively parted for her.
"Clear the ward," she ordered calmly.
Donald, who had been standing silently near the window, turned. His face was unreadable, his voice low. "It seems... everything was discovered too late."
Jessica ignored the words. She rushed to the bed, gently placing her hand on Matilda’s arm. It was still warm. Her skin still soft. Her breath caught.
There was still hope.
"Donald," she said, not taking her eyes off the patient. "Can you clear the ward?"
He blinked, stunned. "Ye-s, yes. You clear the ward." He instructed the guards nearby.
They moved swiftly, quietly and decisively leading people out.
The nurses exchanged shocked and uncertain glances. Their expressions hovered between disbelief and hope. Then, one by one, they began to move.
As the room emptied, Jessica placed her stethoscope on Matilda’s chest and listened. Her fingers were steady now. Her mind focused..