MELISSA’S POV
The car rolled to a stop a few meters away from the hospital, and my stomach twisted into knots so tight I could barely breathe. I had rehearsed the moment in my head a hundred times on the way here—how I’d walk in quietly, maybe slip past unnoticed, keep my emotions hidden like I always did. But the second I saw the flood of media cameras swarming the hospital gates, my heart sank.
The flashes of light were blinding even from inside the car, and the aggressive voices carried above the chaos.
My hands shook as I reached into my purse and pulled out a face mask. Maybe if I wore it, they wouldn’t see me clearly. Maybe I could dodge the questions, the judgment, the probing cameras. But luck has never been on my side.
Before I could secure the mask, a sharp voice cut through
