Emma George clutched Emily’s hand, sniffing back tears. “Emily, are you feeling sick anywhere? I can call the doctor.”
Emily Blair gave her a gentle smile. “No, really, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Elizabeth Wilson chimed in, “Emily, you slept forever! You scared me half to death.”
Emily managed a helpless laugh. “I’m still alive, so please don’t scare yourself.”
She had been feeling drowsy, but after a small argument with Tristan Davis earlier, she was more awake than ever.
The three of them chatted for a while, but the longer Emily talked, the heavier her head felt, her eyelids growing impossible to keep open.
Suddenly, Elizabeth bit her lip and leaned closer. “Emily, are you falling asleep again?”
Emily nodded, barely able to muster a response before her eyes drifted shut.
That startled both Emma and Elizabeth. They quickly hit the nurse call button, summoning the doctor and nurses. When they learned that Emily was just exhausted and not in any physical danger, they finally relaxed.
Emily slept straight through the afternoon. When she woke, darkness blanketed the world outside, and the hospital room was empty except for her.
Lying there, she stared up at the ceiling, unable to stop wondering whether Tristan Davis had finally gotten some rest.
A soft knock broke the quiet. Emily’s brows lifted.
Tristan? she thought, hastily calling out, “Come in!”
But it wasn’t Tristan. Andrew Lane stepped inside instead.
He looked immaculate—his suit perfectly pressed, tie knotted just so, hair carefully styled. He must have come straight from an important event.
Emily’s brief glimmer of hope faded. “Mr. Lane, what brings you here?”

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