The hospital corridor felt endless as Ivy's accusations about my mother echoed in my mind. I couldn't leave yet—not with so many unanswered questions hanging in the air.
I hovered outside Ivy's room, my heart pounding. The medical team had stabilized her, and now only Alistair remained at her bedside. I watched through the narrow window in the door as Ivy regained consciousness.
Her eyes fluttered open, finding Alistair immediately. She reached for his hand with a weak grip.
"You're still here," she whispered, relief washing over her gaunt face.
Alistair nodded stiffly. The tenderness that once defined his every interaction with her was noticeably absent.
"I thought you might have left," Ivy continued, her voice small and fragile.
I pushed the door open slightly, just enough to hear their conversation clearly. Neither noticed me.
"Ivy," Alistair said, his voice hollow, "what you said to Hazel about her mother—"
