Emily didn’t answer right away. She looked over at Olivia, who was lying still in the hospital bed, pale but alert, her eyes quietly searching for meaning in the silence between words.
Their gazes met.
And in that moment, something unspoken passed between them.
This wasn’t coincidence.
And they both knew it.
Santiago returned the next day.
Flawless, as always.
His suit was pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle out of place. The faint scent of expensive cologne followed him like a signature. His expression—carefully crafted concern—sat neatly on his face, rehearsed and convincing to anyone who didn’t know where to look.
“How is she?” he asked calmly at the nurses’ station, his tone controlled, almost bored beneath the surface.
“Stable,” the doctor replied.
For the briefest second, his jaw tightened.
It was subtle. Almost invisible.
But Olivia saw it the moment he stepped into her room.
“My love…” he said softly, approaching her bedside. “You look so pale.”
“I’m tired,” she whispered, her voice fragile but steady.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing something intimate.
“I spoke with the attorney,” he said. “Just in case… things take a turn.”
Olivia studied him carefully.