The small apartment held very little furniture.

But every surface was clean and perfectly organized.

An undeniable sense of solitude lingered in the air, mirroring Isabella’s own mood.

She shook it off and moved to the kitchen.

She prepared a simple bowl of mac and cheese.

It tasted bland. The cheese sauce lacked flavor.

Still, eating something warm made her feel a little better.

She leaned back in her chair.

One hand rested gently on her still-flat stomach.

A faint, bittersweet smile touched her lips.

Outside, the daylight faded as evening settled in.

Suddenly, a sharp ringtone cut through the silence.

It was the special tone she had set for Eleanor.

Isabella answered quickly. “Grandma?”

But it wasn’t Eleanor’s voice.

An unfamiliar, urgent voice responded. “Is this a relative of Mrs. Vance? She’s had a sudden heart attack. She’s in critical condition at the hospital. You need to come now.”

Isabella’s mind went blank.

The phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.

A heart attack? How?

A moment later, she snapped back to reality.

She grabbed her phone, shoved her feet into her shoes, and ran out the door.

During the frantic ride to the hospital, the doctor’s words replayed in her head.

Each repetition tightened the vise around her heart.

She could barely breathe.

Eleanor was her entire world. Her only family. Her rock.

Nothing could happen to her. Nothing.

Isabella’s heels clicked rapidly on the hospital’s polished floors.

Her heart pounded just as loudly in her ears.

“Grandma! Where is my grandmother?”

She rushed forward, gasping but not slowing down.

She headed straight for the nurses’ station.

She grabbed a nurse’s arm, her hands shaking. Her voice was thick with tears.

“Please, my grandmother, Eleanor Vance, was just brought in by ambulance. Where is she? I’m her granddaughter.”

The nurse was experienced with crises.

Her expression remained calm and professional.

“You need to try and stay calm. Your grandmother is in critical care. Her condition is very serious.”

The nurse’s words hit Isabella like physical blows.

Her vision blurred. The fragile hope she’d been clinging to shattered.

Just then, the doors to the resuscitation room swung open.

A doctor in a white coat stepped out. His expression was grave.

He held a document. Isabella knew what it was instantly.

A Critical Condition Notice.

Darkness clouded her vision. Her legs gave way.

The alert nurse caught her just in time.

The doctor lowered his mask. His face was somber.

“Your grandmother’s pre-existing conditions made this attack much more severe. We’ve done everything we can…”

“Doctor, please,” Isabella begged desperately, clutching his arm. “There must be something more you can do. I’ll pay any amount. Just save her!”

The doctor’s eyes showed a flicker of sympathy before he shook his head.

“It’s not about money. Her state is extremely precarious. Unless…”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

“Unless we can get a top specialist to attempt the surgery. Then there might still be a chance.”

A top specialist.

Ethan’s name immediately flashed into her mind.