Chapter Three: A Close Call

The hospital corridors smelled of antiseptic and fear. Aurora paced back and forth outside the emergency ward, her hands trembling so badly she had to keep wringing them together. Her legs felt weak, her breath uneven, and yet she couldn’t stop moving.

Each time the doors swung open with nurses rushing in or out, her heart slammed against her ribs, hoping, dreading, that they would tell her something.

Her little girl was inside, hooked up to wires and tubes because of a cake.

A cake.

The image of Elara gasping for air at the table, her small hands clawing at her throat, replayed so vividly that Aurora thought she might collapse.

A shuffling of footsteps made her freeze. When she turned, she saw Xavier. He looked like a ghost, his face pale, his eyes hollow, his steps hesitant, as though the weight of guilt had stolen his strength.

His gaze darted toward her before quickly dropping to the floor. He moved closer, slowly, almost cautiously, as if unsure whether he had the right to even be near her.

“Aurora…” His voice cracked, almost inaudible. He stretched a trembling hand toward her shoulder, then faltered, pulling it back like the touch itself would burn him. His lips parted, and the words tumbled out, heavy and raw. “I—I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know she was allergic—”

Aurora spun on him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice sharp but shaking. “Of course you didn’t know, Xavier! When was the last time you spent time with your daughter? When?”

He flinched, unable to answer, his mouth opening and closing without sound.

Her chest heaved, her words pouring out between sobs she couldn’t contain. “She was so excited that you bought her a cake. So excited that she ignored her own allergy just to make you happy. Do you understand what that means? She keeps hurting herself just to please you. Why can’t you do the same for her?”

Xavier’s head dropped, shame darkening his features. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t even defend himself. He had no right.

Before Aurora could say more, the doors to the emergency ward banged open. A doctor emerged, pushing Elara’s small body on a gurney. She was unconscious, pale against the stark white sheets, an oxygen mask covering half her face. Aurora’s legs nearly gave out as she rushed forward, but the doctor raised a hand to steady her.

“She’s stable now,” the doctor said firmly after Elara was moved to a recovery ward. “But this was a very close call.” His gaze swept between them, stern and disappointed. “You both need to be more careful. You knew she was allergic. Why would she be given mango in that quantity?”

Aurora’s throat tightened. Her eyes flicked to the cake in her mind.

“Mango wasn’t just added to it,” the doctor continued. “It was baked with multiple mango extracts. We had to pump her stomach.”

Xavier’s shoulders hunched. His eyes fell to the floor again, guilt etching every line of his face. Aurora turned toward him, her gaze sharp and accusing, but he couldn’t even meet it. He looked like a man being crushed by his own failures.

Then the doctor’s tone shifted, directed at Aurora. “Aurora, you more than anyone should not be this careless. You know your daughter’s current condition.”

Xavier’s head snapped up, confusion cutting through his guilt. “What condition?” He asked, his voice tight.

Aurora’s lips parted, but before she could speak, the sharp trill of Xavier’s phone filled the tense silence.

He glanced at the screen, Lilith. Without a second thought, he answered.

“Xavier—” Lilith’s voice trembled with panic. “It’s Jaxon. He had an episode. We’re at the hospital right now.”

Xavier’s eyes widened. “Which hospital?”

“The City General.” Lilith cried.

The very same hospital.

Without hesitation, Xavier turned and bolted down the hall, his steps echoing. He didn’t look back at Aurora, didn’t wait for an explanation, didn’t even pause.

Aurora’s chest ached so deeply she thought she might shatter. The knowledge of who had called was enough.

Lilith. It was always Lilith.

The doctor exhaled heavily, drawing her attention back. “We’re still trying to understand her illness,” he explained gently. “Two years ago, when she first fell sick, we ruled out cancer. But it is something rare, something we cannot yet name. We can’t create an antidote when we don’t know what it is.”

Aurora’s vision blurred with tears. “So you’re saying she’s… she’s dying slowly, and you can’t stop it?” Her voice broke, her hands tightening at her sides. “Please… please, you have to find something. I can’t just stand here and watch her fade away.”

“We’re trying,” the doctor reassured softly. “I’ve reached out beyond New York, searching for anyone who has seen something like this. Don’t give up hope.”

But hope was a luxury Aurora no longer felt she had.

As the doctor walked away, Aurora’s mind slipped into the past, back to the day she told Xavier something was wrong.

She remembered the worry in her chest, the trembling in her voice when she said, “Elara is sick, Xavier. I’m scared.”

And she remembered his reply, dismissive,“Lilith says it’s nothing serious. Probably just a stomach bug. You worry too much.”

Lilith. Always Lilith, with her background in chemistry and her calm, convincing words.

Xavier had believed her. Believed her over his own wife. Over the mother of his child.

The truth twisted like a knife inside Aurora. Because Xavier hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t seen the way Elara’s cheeks had grown hollow, how her once bright eyes had dulled, how her small frame had weakened. He hadn’t seen any of it, because he wasn’t there.

Aurora pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, forcing down a sob.

Later, as she stepped outside to clear her head, she caught sight of them through the glass door. Xavier stood there, arms around Lilith, holding her as she cried into his chest. Her words carried faintly through the thin barrier.

“Jaxon is the only family I have,” Lilith wept. “My sister hates me. I can’t lose him, Xavier. Please, I can’t lose him.”

Aurora’s stomach clenched, bile rising as she watched her husband…her husband, hold another woman who looked just like her. His voice was low, soothing, tender in a way he hadn’t been with her in years.

“Don't say that, you have me and you won’t lose him,” Xavier whispered. “I’ll get the best doctors. He’ll be fine.”

Aurora’s breath caught, her hand gripping the doorframe for balance. The best doctors.

She had begged him, pleaded with him, to bring in specialists from outside New York for Elara. Begged him to see how sick their daughter was. And he had brushed it off, dismissed her as overreacting. But here he was, promising the very thing to another woman. Promising it for her child.

Her heart broke all over again. Betrayal seared through her, deeper than anything she had ever felt. As tears blurred her vision, only one thought echoed in her mind.

If Lilith had never come back, maybe everything would have been different. Maybe we could have been okay.

Aurora turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer.