Chapter 12: A Week of Waiting
779 Words
Time moved differently in the hospital.
Slower.
Quieter.
Almost deceptive.
⸻
For Regal, the days blurred into one another.
Morning checkups.
Medication.
Short, restless naps.
And long stretches of silence where her thoughts refused to leave her alone.
But one thing stayed constant.
Sebastian.
⸻
He came every day.
Sometimes early.
Sometimes late.
But always, he showed up.
⸻
On the third day, she stopped asking why.
On the fifth, she stopped pretending it didn’t matter.
By the seventh, she expected him.
⸻
“You’re staring again.”
Regal didn’t look away from the window.
“You come here too much,” she added.
A pause.
Behind her, Sebastian set his phone down.
“I come here enough.”
She huffed softly.
“That’s not normal lawyer behavior.”
“It is when the client keeps almost dying.”
That made her glance at him.
“Very reassuring.”
“You’re still alive.”
“Barely.”
“That still counts.”
⸻
Silence settled between them.
But it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Not anymore.
⸻
Regal shifted slightly, wincing.
The bruises were fading.
Slowly.
But they were still there.
Reminders.
Of how close things had come.
⸻
Sebastian noticed.
Of course he did.
He always noticed.
“Don’t push yourself,” he said.
“I’m just sitting.”
“You’re still pushing.”
She rolled her eyes faintly.
“You’re very dramatic.”
“And you’re very reckless.”
A beat.
Then—
“Fair.”
⸻
Later that afternoon—
A nurse entered briefly.
“Your discharge has been approved,” she said. “You’ll be leaving today.”
Regal’s heart skipped.
“Today?”
“Yes. Your bail has been processed.”
She looked immediately at Sebastian.
He gave a small nod.
“It’s done.”
Relief hit her quietly.
Carefully.
Like she didn’t trust it yet.
⸻
But then—
The nurse returned with something else.
A device.
Small.
Cold.
Unavoidable.
Regal’s expression changed instantly.
“No.”
⸻
Sebastian’s gaze darkened.
“What is that?” he asked, though he already knew.
“Court-mandated ankle monitor,” the nurse replied.
“For tracking compliance,” she added.
⸻
Regal let out a slow breath.
“I thought bail meant freedom.”
“It means supervision,” Sebastian said calmly.
But there was something sharp beneath his tone.
Something he didn’t like.
At all.
⸻
The monitor was secured around her ankle.
Tight.
Uncomfortable.
A reminder, she wasn’t free.
Not really.
⸻
Sebastian watched the entire process in silence.
Too silent.
When the nurse left, he spoke.
“I’ll have it reviewed.”
Regal looked at him.
“It’s court-ordered.”
“That doesn’t make it untouchable.”
A pause.
“You don’t like it,” she said.
“No,” he replied simply.
There was something deeper in his voice.
Something personal.
⸻
“You don’t like anything that limits control,” she added.
Sebastian’s eyes flicked to hers.
“That’s not why.”
“Then why?”
A beat.
Then—
“Because if someone can track you,” he said, “they can find you.”
Her stomach tightened.
She hadn’t thought of that.
But now, she couldn’t unthink it.
⸻
“Let’s go,” he said.
⸻
Outside—
The sunlight felt different.
Warmer.
Real.
Regal stepped out slowly, taking it in.
Freedom.
Even if it was temporary.
Even if it wasn’t complete.
⸻
Then she noticed it.
The flowers.
In Sebastian’s hand.
⸻
She blinked.
“You brought flowers?”
“They were available.”
“That’s your excuse?”
“It’s efficient.”
She stared at him.
Then smiled.
Small.
But real.
“For someone who doesn’t do emotions,” she said, taking them, “this is very emotional.”
Sebastian didn’t respond.
But he didn’t look away either.
⸻
Across the street—
A black car sat parked.
Engine off.
Windows slightly tinted.
Watching.
⸻
Inside—
A man lowered his phone.
“She’s out,” he said.
A pause.
“Yes… with him.”
⸻
Back at the estate—
Daisy sat curled slightly on her bed.
Lucas’s hoodie in her hands.
Her eyes swollen.
Red.
Tired.
Grief didn’t come in waves.
It stayed.
Lingering.
Heavy.
“You shouldn’t be involved.”
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind.
But she couldn’t let it go.
Not anymore.
She wiped her face slowly.
Her expression shifting.
From sadness, to something sharper.
More determined.
“Find out everything about her,” she said quietly into her phone.
A pause.
“And about Sebastian Cole.”
Because if her father was hiding something,
she was going to uncover it.
No matter what.
- Writer
