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Chapter 96

Author: Isabelle Hart
last update Last Updated: 2026-02-26 03:10:01

I sleep poorly, waking three times a night. First, my shirt is soaked through with sweat. Then, the pain in the top of my head intensifies. Finally, towards morning, I wake up from a nightmare. I dreamt that a skyscraper-sized wave was crashing toward me, and I had nowhere to hide. When I open my eyes again, the room is bright with daylight, and Isaac is sitting in a chair next to my bed.

"Are you awake?" He twitches the corners of his mouth in a semblance of a smile and watches my face intentl
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    "And how is that girl you like, Samantha? Samantha, right?She's been absent from school for two weeks, and now I like Laura Edwards," Sam says carelessly on the phone. "When are you coming back, Mom? I want to watch The Lion King together."The longing for my son echoes painfully in every cell of my body. I miss his scent, the feel of my hand in his thick, bushy hair, our hugs, and his mischievous smile."I'll try as soon as possible, but I'm very busy. You don't have to wait for me to watch it. I promise I won't be offended.""No," my son says firmly. "I promised myself I wouldn't watch The Lion King without you."I've actually become more sentimental since being in the hospital, because that remark touches me deeply now. For the first time in my life, my feelings are completely reciprocated. Sam is as devoted to me as I am to him.“That's very sweet. Tell me what you do in your free time.”“I draw a lot. Yesterday, Coach Jones even complimented me on my great kick. It's called a Ma

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    "Hi," I whispered, the word coming out dry and brittle. My heart hammered against my ribs with such frantic intensity that I was certain Jaden could hear it, muffled only by the thin hospital blanket."Hello, Tasha," he replied. His voice was even but carried a slight, gravelly hoarseness, the kind that comes from hours of heavy silence. He didn't move, just watched me with those smoky gray eyes that remained, as always, an unreadable map. "How are you feeling?"I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump of raw emotion rising in my throat. I tried to anchor myself with a smile, though I knew it was shaky. "I'm fine. Really. But... how did you know I was here?""You didn't come to work," he said simply.I frowned, my mind racing. "But the official story... for everyone else, I'm supposed to be on a business trip.""The 'official story' doesn't account for who you are, Tasha," he countered, his voice dropping an octave. "You would never leave without warning or without making sure every la

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    “How are you feeling, Mrs. Fury?” A stocky, middle-aged man who introduced himself as a police sergeant looked me over as if I were suspected of attempting to assassinate the country’s leader."I'm doing quite well, thank you for your concern," I replied sarcastically. "You could have discussed my condition with your doctor, so let's get straight to the point.“ As you wish. I need to know how you sustained your head injury.""I tripped on the carpet pile and fell," I said, holding his gaze.After two days of weighing the pros and cons, I decided that I didn't want to make what happened public. It wouldn't affect my decision to divorce Isaac, and I didn't want the unnecessary bonus of seeing my face on internet portals or accepting false sympathy from friends. Previously, the deciding factor in preserving my union with Isaac was my unwillingness to leave Sam without a father. Now, however, that has been overshadowed by my fear that Isaac will someday hurt his son. Someone who has cros

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    My father arrived mid-morning, bringing with him a gust of fresh air and a deliberate, cheerful ignorance of the antiseptic smell of my room. He spent a solid half hour entertaining me with stories about his afternoon at the park with Sam. It was a masterclass in deflection; he navigated the conversation like a minefield, carefully stepping around any mention of my monitors or the reason I was stuck in this bed."You should have seen him yesterday, kid," my father said, leaning back in the rigid plastic visitor’s chair. "We went down to the creek to look for those flat skipping stones. Sam found one the size of a dinner plate and insisted it was a 'dinosaur fossil.' He carried that thing for three blocks before he realized his arms weren't long enough to keep hold of it."I leaned back against my pillows, a small smile tugging at my mouth. "Did he make you carry it the rest of the way?""Of course he did," my father chuckled, his eyes softening. "But he’s getting so tall. He’s got tha

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    At the mention of their names, a hot, jagged flare of anger pierced through my exhaustion. Isaac’s parents weren't the ones who had raised a hand to me, but they were the architects of the man who had."If any of them show up at my door, I will insist that they be escorted out by security," I said, my voice thin but absolute."Tasha, what on earth is wrong with you?" Even the sterile hospital air couldn't dampen the sharp displeasure in my mother's tone. She smoothed her skirt, the gold on her wrists clinking. "They are your husband’s parents and our oldest friends. This is no time for a tantrum.""I don't care. As soon as I am discharged, I am filing for divorce."My mother sighed, the sound of someone indulging a hysterical child. "I won't even ask what gave you such a ridiculous idea. You’re clearly not yourself. You need to rest and let the doctors do their work."The proximity of death has a way of stripping away the polite veneer of life. I was too weak to prop up her delusions

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    Half an hour later, Dr. Turner swept into the room, his brow furrowed as he reviewed my chart. He spoke in the clipped, clinical tones of a man used to delivering bad news, mentioning my dangerously low hemoglobin and severe anemia. When I pressed him for a discharge date, he offered only a vague, non-committal remark about "continued monitoring" before vanishing back into the sterile hallway.Breakfast arrived—tasteless and lukewarm—but it was the bouquet on the windowsill that truly offended me. Its scent was cloying, a pompous explosion of lilies that felt like a mockery of my sterile surroundings. When the nurse returned for the tray, I asked her to remove them immediately. I ignored her puzzled expression, turning my face toward the window until the heavy fragrance finally faded from the room. My phone sat charging on the nightstand, and my bag—likely brought by Isaac—rested in the chair, but the energy required to reach them felt monumental. I told myself I’d call my mother late

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