The door swung open again.

Sophia entered, her presence soft like a morning mist. She carried a woven basket overflowing with ripe fruits. A carefully crafted smile, laced with false worry, touched her lips.

“Is it over?” Isabella whispered, her eyes shut against the pounding in her head, thinking it was Lucas.

“Over with what?” Sophia’s voice was a gentle, confused murmur.

Isabella’s eyes snapped open. Sophia stood by the bed, her expression unnervingly sweet, holding the fruit basket.

“Why are you here?” Isabella’s voice was ice, her brows knitting with deep suspicion.

Unfazed, Sophia settled on the edge of the mattress. She placed the basket delicately on the side table.

“I came to check on you,” she replied, her tone oozing fake concern. It made Isabella’s skin crawl.

Isabella had told no one about the accident. How did Sophia know?

Her fingers clenched into a tight fist beneath the sheets.

Did Sophia plan this?

A light, chilling laugh escaped Sophia. “When you called Ethan for help, guess what? I was right beside him. He was too occupied with me to even answer.” The cold realization washed over Isabella.

Sophia had been with Ethan during her desperate call.

A cold dread trickled down Isabella’s spine. The meaning of Sophia’s words froze her core.

In her moment of greatest need, Ethan had abandoned her. For Sophia.

The bitter truth ate at her. Isabella found herself glancing at the door, foolishly hoping Ethan would appear.

“Don’t bother looking,” Sophia remarked with a hollow chuckle. She casually covered her mouth, her smirk clear. “Ethan rushed back to the office. Urgent business.”

The words pierced Isabella’s heart. A cold, numb pain spread through her body.

But beneath her calm surface, Sophia was not the victor she pretended to be.

The moment she was stable, Ethan had left. He didn’t stay by her side.

Why did his indifference hurt so much?

As Sophia dwelled on his coldness, a wave of disappointment threatened to drown her. She couldn’t let Isabella see her crack.

Maintaining her composure, Sophia arched a brow. She spoke with forced casualness. “You know, I told Ethan about your pregnancy. I urged him to come to you. But he refused. He chose to stay with me.”

She picked up an apple. Her knife slid smoothly, peeling the skin. Her gaze remained fixed on Isabella’s pale face.

“You see, Isabella, to him, you and your child mean nothing compared to me.”

Her tone was soft, almost caring. But each word was a sharp, merciless cut.

Watching Sophia’s smug smile, a shiver of pure fear gripped Isabella’s heart.

So, Ethan knew about the pregnancy.

He knew all along. And he coldly left her to die in that wreck.