Chapter 5

Evangeline's POV

The machines beeped steadily, a rhythm I'd already memorized. Beep. Pause. Beep. Pause. Each sound meant Theo's heart was still beating, that he was still here, still fighting.

I sat beside his bed, holding his small hand, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

But my mind kept returning to the accident. To the black sedan with tinted windows. The way it had followed us so deliberately. The way it had sped up at just the right moment to hit us.

This wasn't random. It couldn't be.

Someone had been watching us at the clinic. Theo had seen them. Someone had followed us. Someone had run us off the road.

But who? And why?

My grip tightened on Theo's hand. Whatever the answer, one thing was clear: I could no longer rely on anyone else. Not Dashiell. Not his family. I had to protect my son on my own.

The door opened behind me.

"Evangeline."

I didn't turn around. I knew that voice.

Dashiell's footsteps approached slowly, hesitantly. I could feel him standing there, just behind my chair, his presence filling the small room.

"How is he?" His voice was careful, controlled.

I said nothing.

"Evangeline, please. I know you're upset, but—"

"You need to leave." My voice was flat, emotionless.

"I'm his father. I have a right to be here." He moved closer, coming around to stand on the other side of Theo's bed.

"The doctor said he's stable," Dashiell continued, his tone shifting to something that might have been concern. "That's good news, right? He's strong. He'll pull through this."

I kept my eyes on Theo's face, refusing to look at Dashiell.

"I've been thinking," he went on, filling the silence. "We should transfer him to a VIP ward. Get him the best care possible. I can arrange for specialists, private nurses, whatever he needs—"

"No."

Dashiell blinked. "No? Evangeline, I'm trying to help. Theo deserves the best."

"We're divorced." I finally looked up at him, my gaze cold. "Theo's care is no longer your concern."

His face flushed. "Don't be ridiculous. He's my son."

"A son you barely knew existed until yesterday." The words came out sharp, cutting. "A son whose birthday party you ruined. A son you've ignored for five years while you played house with your dying… nevermind."

"Evangeline, why you become so unreasonable?!"

"Since we're divorced, Theo's affairs are no longer any of your business." I turned back to my son, dismissing Dashiell entirely. "You can leave now."

"You're being aggressive," Dashiell said, his voice taking on an edge. "This isn't like you. What are you trying to prove?"

I didn't answer.

"I get it." His tone shifted, becoming almost patronizing. "You're angry. You want me to fight for you. You're playing hard to get, making me chase—"

"Get out."

"Evangeline—"

He wasn’t able to finish what he would say when his phone rang, cutting through the tension.

Dashiell pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. For a moment, I thought he would not answer it but in the end, he did.

"Sabrina?" His voice immediately softened, became gentle in a way it never was with me. "Yes. What? No, don't worry. Just stay put, okay?"

He hung up, already moving toward the door.

"I need to go check on something," he said, not quite meeting my eyes. "I'll be back."

I watched him leave without a word. But he came back almost immediately too. 

I was perplexed but when I heard a familiar voice, I knew immediately.

"Dashiell!" Sabrina's voice was breathless, weak. "There you are. I was so worried when you suddenly disappeared!"

She appeared in the doorway, looking fragile and pale in a hospital gown. Her eyes found Dashiell immediately, and she rushed forward, throwing herself against him.

"Thank you," she whispered, her face pressed to his chest. "Thank you for bringing me here in time. For making sure I got my treatment. I don't know what I would do without you."

Dashiell's arms came around her, steadying her. "Of course. I told you I'd take care of you."

My blood went cold.

He hadn't come to the hospital because of the accident. Because of Theo. He'd come for Sabrina. For her treatment.

We were just... incidental. A casual stop on his way to what really mattered.

Sabrina pulled back slightly, and her gaze drifted to the bed. To Theo, small and still beneath the white sheets.

Something flickered across her face. Not shocked. Not sympathy.

Something else. Something almost like... satisfaction?

But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a look of horror.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Is that... is that Theo?"

Our eyes met.

And in that moment, I knew. I didn't know how, didn't have proof, but I knew.

The accident wasn't random. The black sedan wasn't a coincidence.

This had something to do with her. Maybe with them.

Sabrina must have seen something in my expression because her face suddenly crumpled. "I don't feel well," she whispered, swaying on her feet. "Dashiell, I think I need to go back to my room."

"Of course." He immediately shifted his attention to her, all concern and devotion. "Let me take you back. You shouldn't have left your bed."

He started to guide her toward the door, his hand on her back, already forgetting about Theo lying unconscious just feet away.

Then the machines started shrieking.

Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.

Theo's heart rate monitor spiked, the numbers climbing rapidly.

"Theo!" I jumped from my chair, my hand still gripping his.

The door burst open. Ethan rushed in, his expression sharp and focused. "What happened?"

"I don't know! He was stable and then—" I answered in a panic.

Ethan was already checking the monitors, examining Theo's vitals. "His heart rate's elevated. Possible seizure activity. I need you to step back, Evangeline."

I stumbled backward, my legs hitting the chair.

Behind me, Dashiell had stopped at the door, Sabrina still leaning against him. He turned, his face torn, uncertain.

"Is he—" Dashiell started toward Theo's bed, his hand reaching out.

Then Sabrina swayed dramatically, her knees buckling. "Dashiell..."

He froze mid-step, his hand still extended toward his son but his head turning toward Sabrina.

I watched him. Watched the war play out on his face. Watched him hesitate between the bed where Theo lay fighting for his life and the woman who was currently collapsing against the doorframe.

For one breathless moment, I was hoping he would choose Theo. Hoping he might finally, finally put his son first.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Come on, I thought desperately. Just this once.

Choose him. Choose us.