The steady rhythm of hospital life was abruptly shattered one afternoon when Nathan knocked softly and opened the door, ushering in two visitors.
Adeline's heart sank the moment she saw them—her father, worn and hollow-eyed, and beside him, her stepmother Julianne, prim and polished, with a smile that never quite reached her eyes.
Her father's face tightened as he took in the frailty of her frame. His voice trembled with a mix of guilt and despair.
"Adeline... I—I had no idea it had gotten this bad."
She managed a faint nod, too drained to speak.
Julianne's voice cut through the silence like a blade—sharp and cold.
"Are you sure she isn't just dramatizing this? Playing on Lucas's sympathy? You know how theatrical she can be."
Her father's eyes flared with sudden anger.
"Enough, Julianne." His tone was low, fierce. "She's my daughter."
Julianne tilted her head, unimpressed.
"I'm only being practical. Maybe she's manipulating the situation."
Adeline felt her chest tighten. Elias, who had been sitting silently nearby, rose with quiet authority.
"Nathan," Elias said calmly, "please escort Ms. Julianne out of the hospital."
Nathan nodded immediately and moved toward Julianne.
Before she left, Julianne cast a final, icy glance at Adeline.
"This isn't over."
The door clicked shut behind her.
Adeline's father sank into a chair, exhaustion weighing heavy on his shoulders.
Elias returned to stand beside Adeline's bed, his voice firm yet gentle.
"Focus on getting better. The rest can wait."
Adeline looked up at him, gratitude flickering in her tired eyes.
For a brief moment, the tension eased—but the fragile peace remained as delicate as ever.