Seeing Whitney so helpless and fragile, I couldn't help but hold her close. "This is just the initial news. There's still a chance things might turn around. Don't cry. You have to believe in him."
In my arms, Whitney nodded softly. Even her sobbing was quiet and restrained, making her all the more endearing.
No wonder Taylor, even as an adversary, had wanted to protect her back then.
"Carter's already sent people to investigate. Don't worry."
"Okay," she murmured, her voice like a small, whimpering animal.
Seeing her like this, I couldn't bring myself to leave. With the Sanders family in disarray, and Kate preoccupied with caring for Josh, I decided to stay and keep Whitney company.
Carter, worried about me, didn't feel comfortable leaving either. He ended up spending the night on the sofa outside the suite, looking more than a little cramped with his long legs awkwardly bent. Seeing him like that made my heart ache. "I'm sorry ... "
He took my hand and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his chin on my neck.
"It's fine. Whitney is your family, which makes her my sister. I understand, so you don't need to apologize. We're husband and wife."
He nuzzled my cheek gently. "Compared to everything else, I'm just grateful to hold you. And now we have a child on the way."
His large hand rested over my abdomen, where our little life was growing. This truly was a blessing.
"Let Damian bring you another blanket," I suggested.
"Sure, I'll do whatever you say."
We exchanged a smile. Compared to Whitney and Taylor, who couldn't be together and were now separated by life and death, I considered myself fortunate.
When Damian brought the blanket, I took the opportunity to ask about the man in glasses.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Bolton. I just taught him a lesson. He'll need a few months to recover, but during that time, he won't bother Ms. Whitney again."
"Thank you."
"It's my duty."
I bent down to help Carter with the blanket, but he quickly stopped me. "I'll handle it myself."
He efficiently made his bed and turned off the lights, settling in obediently. "Go be with her. I'll be fine."
I knew he said that just to ease my worries. Leaning down, I hugged him tightly. "Amber will be okay."
His body stiffened slightly before he murmured, "Okay."
Carter had lived a life starved of affection, so it was no surprise he cared so much about the one elder who had shown him kindness.
Back in Whitney's room, I found her sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to the door, gazing at the bright, full moon. The moonlight cast a silvery glow on her, wrapping her in an aura of solitude.
Even though spring had arrived, her hands felt ice-cold when I touched them.
Her eyes brimmed with sorrow, and it was heartbreaking to see.
I held her hand and guided her to lie down.
"I'm sorry for making you worry," she whispered.
"Whitney, I know it's impossible for you not to feel sad. But if I told you I'm carrying a new life, would that make you feel a little happier?"
Whitney froze. "You're pregnant?"
I placed her hand over my abdomen. "Yes, a little life is growing here."
She pressed her cheek gently against my belly, staying perfectly still, her breathing so soft and careful.
"Life may be messy, but even in the worst of times, beautiful flowers can bloom and give us hope. Don't you think so? Have you wondered whether it's a boy or a girl, or who they'll take after—me or their father?"
"No matter who the baby takes after, you'll both love them deeply."
"What about you?"
Her gaze flickered as she realized my intention. Then she buried her face in my arms. "I'll love them too."
I held Whitney close. "I'm sorry. I'm being selfish."
Whitney was the sister I'd fought so hard to find. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her again.
As long as we're alive, there's hope.
I'd come to comfort Whitney, but perhaps because of my pregnancy, I drifted off to sleep before I knew it.
When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, but Whitney was nowhere to be seen.
I quickly finished breakfast, freshened up, and hurried downstairs.
Cherry blossoms fluttered along the tree-lined path, with a few petals landing on Whitney's hair.
Standing before her, Luther cut a striking figure—tall and confident. The black shirt beneath his lab coat was impeccably tailored, exuding luxury.
As he raised his hand, the bracelet on his wrist dangled naturally.
"Dr. Donovan," I called out.
Whitney turned toward me, and Luther withdrew his hand.
He addressed me, "Zoey."
"Fancy running into you again," I said, a trace of sarcasm in my tone.
He smiled lightly. "Yes, I was called in for surgery late last night. I just wrapped up and happened to see Starling."
His gaze lingered on my belly. "Why are you at the hospital? Are you feeling unwell?"
"I'm fine, thanks. Don't let me interrupt your work."
After confirming Whitney was in good health, we completed her discharge paperwork and left.
As soon as I dropped her off at the Sanders residence, Kate rushed out to take her inside.
She repeatedly invited me to stay for a chat, but I declined and headed straight back to the car.
Even though I hadn't done much, exhaustion crept in. I leaned against Carter, ready to head home and rest.
But the police showed up before we even made it back.
Trouble seemed to be brewing yet again.
I stepped out of the car and greeted them. "Captain Tucker, what's going on?"
"Mrs. Bolton," the captain began, "a male corpse was found on Sheppey Lane last night. Witnesses claim he had a dispute with this young lady before his death. We need to bring her to the station for questioning."
I froze. The man with the glasses ... He was dead?
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