Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Eleanor showed me where Sebastian’s medications were kept and walked me through the schedule his nurses followed. She explained which appointments were coming up, where the daily records were stored and whom I should contact if I noticed anything unusual. 

I listened carefully, asking questions whenever something wasn’t clear. It was familiar work in some ways, though I had never been responsible for keeping track of a routine like this inside someone’s home.

“I’ll leave a copy of the schedule in the room,” she said, closing the folder she had brought with her. “The nurses will be here during the day, but there may be times when you’re the only person around him for a while.”

“I understand,” I replied softly, my voice firm despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

“And please, Ivy,” Eleanor paused, her composed facade cracking just enough to reveal the desperate mother underneath. Her eyes searched mine, her tone pleading. “If anything concerns you, call me, even if you think it’s probably nothing.”

“I will,” I promised, touched by the vulnerability in her voice and wanting so badly to reassure her.

She studied me for a moment, as though deciding whether there was anything else she needed to say. Then she glanced at Sebastian, and her expression softened with deep, quiet sorrow.

“I’m going to check on dinner,” she murmured gently. “You can stay here for a little while if you like.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kane,” I said, offering a small, respectful smile.

She gave me a faint, grateful smile before leaving, pulling the door almost closed behind her. The room seemed quieter without her, though the monitors continued their steady beeping. I stood beside the bed, suddenly unsure what I was supposed to do with myself.

At work, there was always something waiting for me. A prescription to verify, a patient with a question, or Maya calling my name from the other side of the counter. Here, everything had been arranged for me, and the one person I had come to look after could not answer a single question.

I moved closer to the bed and looked at Sebastian properly. 

His photographs had made him seem confident, almost intimidating, but there was nothing intimidating about him now. He looked younger than I had expected, and without the suits and carefully composed expressions, it was difficult to imagine him running a company as large as Kane Pharma.

I wondered what he had been like before the attack. Whether he was patient with people, whether he laughed easily, whether he was the kind of man who remembered the names of employees or expected everyone to remember his. I had heard plenty about the Kane heir, but most of it came from people who had never met him either.

“Well,” I said quietly, a faint blush creeping onto my face as I felt a little ridiculous as soon as the word left my mouth, “I suppose we should introduce ourselves.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m Ivy Sinclair. I work in the pharmacy, and your mother has decided I'm a suitable company for you.” I glanced at his still face, my heart aching slightly at his silence. “I promise I’m better at my actual job than I am at talking to someone who can’t answer me.”

The room offered no response except the soft hum of the equipment.

I pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down, setting my bag on the floor. I wasn’t sure whether I was expected to talk to him. Some families spoke to unresponsive patients constantly, others preferred quiet. I decided that, for now, I would do what felt natural rather than turn his room into a place where every word had to be carefully chosen.

“Your mother seems nice,” I told him, letting out a small, gentle breath as I settled in. “A little intimidating, but nice. She helped me out at work yesterday, so I suppose I owe her one.”

I smiled faintly, a spark of amusement hitting me as I remembered the look on Carter’s face when Eleanor had questioned him about the prescription. It had been satisfying to watch him struggle for an answer, even if I knew he would probably find another way to make my life difficult.

My eyes returned to Sebastian, my expression sobering. “I hope you know she worries about you.”

The words came out more seriously than I intended, thick with earnest feeling. I looked down at my hands, nervously rubbing my thumb over a loose thread on my sleeve. I knew what it was like to watch someone you loved struggle with an illness, though Noah’s condition was different. At least Noah could tell us when he was uncomfortable or complain when Mum insisted he rest. Sebastian had none of that.

I stayed for another few minutes, checking the schedule Eleanor had left me and making sure I understood the instructions. Before I left, I adjusted the edge of the blanket where it had folded near his hand, then stopped, my heart catching in my throat as I wondered whether I had any right to touch his things without asking.

“Sorry,” I murmured, my voice barely a breath as I smoothed it once and stepped back.

At the doorway, I glanced over my shoulder, feeling a gentle warmth pull at my chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sebastian.”

Then I switched off the brighter overhead light, leaving the bedside lamps on as the nurse had shown me, and stepped into the corridor.

I found Eleanor downstairs, speaking to a member of staff near the dining room. When she saw me, she excused herself and came over, her eyes full of quiet anticipation.

“How did you get on?” she asked softly.

“Fine,” I said, giving her a reassuring, warm smile. “I’ve read through the schedule. I might have a few questions once I’ve had time to look at everything properly.”

“That’s perfectly all right,” she said, her shoulders visibly relaxing with relief. “You don’t have to learn it all in one evening.”

Her genuine reassurance eased some of the tension in my shoulders. I had been so focused on making the right decision that I hadn’t considered how strange it might feel to step into a household where everyone already knew their place except me.

“I’ll come back after my shift tomorrow,” I said with earnest commitment.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you,” she replied, her tone filled with sincere gratitude.

As I headed for the front door, I thought about the man upstairs and the quiet room where I would be spending more of my time. I had come for the extra income, and that reason still mattered. Noah needed us, and our bills weren’t going to disappear.

But I found myself hoping that, in time, Sebastian would give us some sign that he was still there.