Chapter 6

Julian lifted his foot and stepped on a plush pink rabbit. It was chubby, pastel, and had two long ears. A pair of tiny bee wings sprouted awkwardly from its back.

Julian remembered this odd little toy. Phoebe had loved it. He used to call it a mutant rabbit—neither one thing nor another. Ugly, he'd said. Especially with wings on its back.

She hadn't argued. Just glared at him.

She really had liked it, and he'd made fun of it just to tease her.

They'd gotten it from a claw machine at the movie theater. He'd won it for her. She'd tugged at his sleeve like a child, whining for him to get it. And now, even this stupid thing had been returned.

That night, Julian had called her angrily, only to find the number was no longer in service.

She hadn't just left. She'd vanished, without taking a single cent.

Seven years had passed. He hadn't heard a single word about her since. All he knew was that she had suddenly taken a leave from their university and disappeared altogether.

He'd been buried in his medicine studies, which took up all of his time. And his eldest brother had just taken over the family business. Julian had withdrawn from the inheritance battle to preserve the peace, and for a while, he hadn't planned on returning to Veloria.

Phoebe became a thorn lodged in his heart. He couldn't even say when it had been embedded there.

He hated it. Yet he lived with it.

Most days, it didn't hurt. But when it flared up, it was sharp and breath-stealing—like a sudden spell of rainy season humidity, suffocating and without warning.

…

One afternoon, on his way back to work, Julian was driving when a figure darted out in front of his car.

He slammed the brakes.

The car skidded to a halt. He jumped out at once.

A young girl sat on the ground, wide, frightened eyes like black grapes still trembling. In her arms, she clutched a scruffy little mutt.

"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" he bent down and lifted her gently, quickly checking for injuries. Nothing serious—just her palm, scraped from breaking her fall.

She looked stunned.

Her eyes rimmed red, she whispered, "Doctor, I'm fine. Please just check on the puppy. He almost got run over."

The puppy lay curled in her arms, looking barely two or three months old.

Julian frowned. The girl looked familiar, with her fair skin and bright black eyes.

He was surprised he remembered someone he'd only met once.

He saw countless patients every day. But her face stood out.

Yes—he had treated her before. Her name was...

Julie Averly.

"Do you realize how dangerous that was just now?" His voice sharpened. "If I hadn't braked in time, it could've been much worse."

He glanced around. There was no one else in sight.

"Where are your parents?"

All for a stray mutt… she'd risked everything without a thought.

The girl bit her lip. "I..."

"Julie!" a woman's voice called out.

Footsteps came running. In the sweltering afternoon heat, the air carried a faint hint of perfume.

Josephine rushed over, immediately pulling her daughter into her arms. "Julie, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mommy. The puppy's okay too," Julie said. Her scraped palm stung, but she didn't complain. She wrapped her arms around Josephine's neck. "Really, Mommy. I'm totally fine."

Josephine's heart still raced. It was a Saturday. She'd taken Julie to KFC, and while she went to pick up their order, Julie had vanished.

When she'd heard the sound of screeching brakes, she nearly fainted.

Thank God Julie was safe.

She looked up and saw Julian.

Her teeth pressed into her lip, pupils trembling just slightly.

Julian stood a short distance away, dressed in a pale gray tracksuit. Tall and lean, one hand in his pocket, eyes cold and distant.

Their gazes met.

Josephine stood up, instinctively stepping in front of Julie, shielding her.

Her heart thudded in her chest.

She opened her mouth, voice hoarse. "You…"

She wasn't wearing a mask today. Nothing concealed her clear, delicate features with a quiet, scholarly air. The summer wind tugged at the hem of her pale blue dress, as the noonday sun beat down from above.

He stood just two meters away, yet everything began to blur, as if the world had tilted slightly. The sun burned too brightly. Her ears buzzed. Time stalled.

"Get in. We'll take your daughter to the hospital for a check-up," he said, eyeing her as she guarded the child like a mother hen shielding her chick.

Josephine shook her head quickly. "No... that's not necessary. I'll take her myself. It's no trouble."

But inwardly, she exhaled.

The fact that he offered so casually meant he hadn't recognized her.

Julian got back in his car, tapped the horn once, and stared through the windshield at her.

"I'm a surgeon," he said flatly. "Many injuries from car accidents aren't visible. Internal trauma can be far worse. If anything happens, I'll take full responsibility."

What he didn't say was: Your daughter is my patient.

But right now, he couldn't help looking at her a little longer. The sun lit her skin a sharp, bright white. The blue dress clung lightly to a slender frame, still and poised, like a single blue lily in the heat.

Maybe it was just the color contrast, but to him, she looked nearly too bright to be real.

Young, too—nothing about her suggested the mother of a six- or seven-year-old child.

He found her familiar.

But he wouldn't ask. That would sound too much like a pick-up line.

And something about her was odd.

Her daughter had nearly been hit by a car—even if everything seemed okay, most parents would demand a full workup, maybe even threaten a lawsuit. But not her. She accepted it calmly.

Josephine helped her daughter into the back seat.

At the hospital, they ran test after test. Julian stayed the entire time. For the chest and abdominal CT, a child needed to be accompanied by a guardian.

So he carried Julie in.

A nurse passing by grinned, teasing, "Dr. Faulkner, your daughter's adorable. She looks just like you."

Josephine bit down hard on her lip.

Was it that obvious?

She felt several sets of eyes turn toward her.

Pressing her palm against her side, she kept her gaze low. She didn't look at Julian.

After the nurse spoke, Julian gave a faint smile and turned to Josephine. "You should wait outside. There's radiation."

He really was the star of the hospital. Wherever he walked, eyes followed.

Josephine trailed behind him with her gaze fixed on the floor. Whispers floated down the hallway:

"Who's that little girl Dr. Faulkner's carrying?"

"Is that woman his girlfriend?"

"Wait, Dr. Faulkner's into that type?"

"No way. Didn't he tell Audrey he liked tall, fair, big-busted women?"

"Seriously? He seems so proper and elegant. That's what he likes?"

"Men are always secretly pervy. Audrey, the hospital director's daughter, had specifically requested to get transferred here to chase Dr. Faulkner. She completely lost it when he turned her down."

"Whatever. That's probably his niece or something. The girl looks five or six. Dr. Faulkner isn't even thirty."

"But the woman's really pretty. She's also elegant and graceful."

The entire afternoon passed with Julie undergoing scans. The results showed only minor soft-tissue bruising on her knee and wrist.

Josephine exhaled in relief.

She turned to Julian. "Thank you."

"My number's on the card. If anything comes up, call me."

Her gaze dropped to the business card in his hand, then to his long, clean fingers.

She took it, nodded, and gently tugged Julie's hand. They turned to leave.

They'd barely walked a few steps when his raspy voice came from behind.

"Have we met before?"

Josephine froze.

Then, she answered, "You probably don't remember us because you see a lot of patients. My daughter has a heart condition, and we got a consultation from you a while ago."

He smiled faintly, eyes narrowing just slightly.

But that wasn't what he meant.

"I'm not that forgetful… Julie's mom."

At that, Josephine finally looked at him.

His face, still cool and composed, held a shadow in the depths of his dark eyes. Something in them made her heart skip a beat.