CONRAD
She left.
The thud of the door slamming shut was still echoing in the hospital room. I stood there, watching her leave. I didn't want to stop her again.
I had told her that I didn't care that her child was alone. I had restricted her from leaving till she answered my question—not that I cared if she answered it.
I hated the feeling of being deceived, of having someone hide basic facts from me. But as I watched her run out of the door, fueled by a genuine fear and anger, I realised my anger wasn't just about the lie—it wasn't about the lie one but. It was about where she was running to.
Not only to Noah. She was running to Xander.
I had seen her minutes ago. As I entered the entrance door of the hospital, I saw her walking towards the hospital's cafeteria, a masculine figure
