Chapter 43
1036 Words
Elias POV
Her eyes opened fully, taking in the room with confusion, and fear, before recognition settled in.
Then, her eyes found me.
I didn’t move. I let her see me first. Let her know I was here. That she was safe.
I reached for my phone at once and called the doctor, my voice steady but tight.
“She’s awake,” I said. “Come check her again.”
Within minutes, he returned. He examined her pupils, tested her reflexes, and asked her to follow his finger with her eyes.
“Everything looks normal,” he said quietly.
He asked if she remembered what had happened, if she could recall things clearly. I watched her struggle to focus, blinking as if trying to anchor herself. I stayed still, close enough to be felt without crowding her. She noticed me, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. I allowed her that connection, knowing the comfort it brought her, and me.
“Leave her with me for now,” I said firmly. “She needs to be calm. No interruptions.”
The doctor hesitated, then nodded and left the room.
Hours passed. She rested, too weak to move much, drifting in and out of sleep. I watched her breathing, the pale color of her face, memorizing every detail as if she might disappear if I looked away.
When she was awake again, I placed the fruit I had brought on the side table.
“You should eat something,” I said softly, keeping my voice low and calm. “Just a little.”
She looked at me, uncertain, then shook her head faintly. “I…I’m not hungry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Her stomach betrayed her with a quiet rumble.
She turned away, embarrassed.
A small smile touched my lips. “Your stomach says otherwise.”
I helped her sit up and moved the bowl closer. I lifted a spoon, offering it to her.
“Here.”
She stared at me, clearly surprised, hesitating before taking it. Her hand moved slowly, taking the spoon. I guided her hand gently, steady and careful. She ate slowly, small bites at first, then a little more. I watched every movement, making sure she didn’t strain herself.
After a while, she leaned back, her fingers resting over her stomach, fidgeting like she wanted to speak but didn’t know how. Eventually, sleep claimed her again.
I stayed beside her, watching as the tension slowly left her face. Under the soft hospital light, her features finally relaxed, her breathing evening out. Only then did I allow myself to sink into the chair beside the bed, resting my head briefly against the back of the sofa.
There were questions waiting for me, answers I needed from one of the kidnappers. But they could wait.
Right now, she came first.
Night had fully settled when a soft sound broke the silence, a whimper. I looked up and saw her trembling in her sleep, her body tense.
She groaned, uncomfortable.
“Camille…” she whispered.
“Please… don’t kill him…”
Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
I was at her side instantly, pulling her into my arms. Her fingers clutched mine hard, digging into my skin, but I didn’t care. She needed me.
I pressed the emergency button beside her bed, my arm tightening around her.
“Stay with me,” I murmured. “You’re safe.”
I didn’t let go until her shaking eased, until her breathing slowed. Her eyes fluttered open, filling with tears, and then she cried openly.
It hurts deeply seeing her cry.
I held her close, stroking her hair as she cried against my chest, her hands gripping my shirt like she was afraid I’d vanish. The sound tore through me.
I would never leave her alone again.
Then, the doctors rushed in.
Too late.
Apologies were already forming when I turned on them.
“What if I hadn’t been here?” I shouted, my voice cutting through the room like a blade. “What if she was alone when this happened?”
The nurse froze. The doctor lifted his hands slightly.
“Mr. Lawson, we’re sorry—”
“Sorry doesn’t fix negligence,” I snapped. “I pressed the emergency button minutes ago. Anything could have happened to her.”
He bowed slightly. “I promise this won’t happen again, Mr. Lawson.”
“There won’t be a next time,” I cut in coldly. “Prepare her discharge. Now.”
“Sir, that’s not advisable—”
“I wasn’t asking,” I cut in. “She’s coming home with me. You’ll continue her treatment there.”
There was no argument after that.
The drive home was silent.
Mara lay against me in the back seat, wrapped in blankets, her head resting on my chest. Every breath she took felt like a responsibility I refused to hand back to anyone.
The mansion was dark when we arrived. Quiet. As if the house itself was asleep.
I carried her inside without hesitation.
She felt light in my arms.
I took her straight to her room, laid her gently on the bed, and pulled the blankets over her, careful with every movement.
When I straightened, I saw her watching me
Her fingers fidgeted, just like earlier.
“You look like you want to say something,” I said quietly.
She swallowed.
Before she could speak, I asked anyway, because I couldn’t stop myself.
“Are you hungry?”
“Does anything hurt?”
“Your head? Your legs?”
“Do you feel dizzy?”
Each question came softer than the last.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. Then she hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly into the sheets. “Elias… there’s something I need to tell you.”
My body went still.
“What is it?”
Her eyes searched my face, cautious.
“It’s about your mother,” she said. “Camille.”
The air shifted.
My jaw tightened, every instinct flaring, but I didn’t interrupt her. I stayed steady.
“Tell me,” I said quietly.
And if Camille had a hand in her kidnapping,
I didn’t know what I would do.
- Writer
