Isabella’s nose stung, a clear warning that tears were close. Her voice hitched as she nodded, barely whispering, “I understand, Grandma.” Behind her, Ethan stood silent, his presence heavy and still.

He fixed her with a long, searching look, then turned sharply and left the room. His footsteps faded down the hall, leaving a hollow silence in their wake. The sterile air of the hospital suddenly felt thick and hard to breathe.

She stepped out quietly into the empty corridor. Ethan was already gone. Her eyes traced the long, lonely hallway, a deep ache settling in her chest.

She blinked hard, fighting back the tears.

“Isabella.” Lucas’s voice was warm, cutting through her thoughts.

She turned, forcing a smile. “Lucas, you’re still here?”

His heart twisted at her strained expression. He moved closer, his tone gentle. “Your grandmother is stable now. That’s what matters. But if you need anything—anything at all—just say the word.”

He spoke carefully, aware of her fragile state. It was obvious to him that Ethan’s sudden departure had shaken her deeply.

“Thank you, Lucas,” she said softly.

“It’s nothing,” he replied. He paused, studying her slightly reddened eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She quickly masked the pain in her gaze. “I’m fine. Just tired. You should go—it’s getting late.”

Lucas seemed to hesitate, but said nothing more.

Isabella turned and walked back into the room. She picked up an apple and began peeling it for Eleanor, but her hands were unsteady. The peel came off in jagged, uneven strips.

Eleanor watched from her bed, her kind eyes filled with quiet concern.

“My dear, you’re so distracted you can’t even peel an apple. What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

Isabella snapped back to the present, forcing another smile. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just tired.” She handed over the poorly peeled apple.

Eleanor took it and took a small bite, her gaze never leaving Isabella’s face. “Sweetheart, I know you too well. Does this have to do with Mr. Blackwood?” Her voice was soft but direct.

Isabella’s fingers twitched. Her eyes flickered with unspoken emotion. “Grandma, he’s just a friend.”

Eleanor’s reply was light yet pointed. “Would a mere friend arrange a transfer to a VIP ward and ensure the best specialists were on call?”

Her words hung in the air, challenging Isabella’s dismissals.

The sharp smell of disinfectant tightened around Isabella’s chest.

Eleanor’s probing stare only heightened her anxiety, making it difficult to stay calm.