The air in the VIP hospital room at Saint Vera felt cold that morning, despite the sun shining high above. Evalina was still lying in bed, her face pale, but her eyes beginning to show renewed strength. Beside her, Hunter sat faithfully, watching the woman who had become the center of his world.
The stillness was suddenly interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
Knock. Knock.
Hunter turned his head. “Come in,” he replied flatly, with no expectation.
The door opened—and in walked the last person Hunter wanted to see that morning: Serena Jackson.
She entered gracefully in an elegant white dress, her face wearing a carefully constructed look of concern, and her hands holding a bouquet of soft pink roses.
“Evalina…” Serena said gently, stepping closer with glossy eyes. “I heard you were
