Chapter 8

Her head slammed hard against the car window, the airbag deployed, and Isabella was left semi-conscious in her seat.

In her daze, she saw several young men getting out of the truck.

She recognized them—boys from the same orphanage as Sophie.

When she'd sponsored Sophie, she'd helped them too.

They walked over to check on Isabella's condition.

"Hit this bad, she probably won't make it, right?"

"Definitely not. This woman already had brain problems—she's a goner!"

"Haha, perfect! Once she's dead, Sophie can become the Cross family's young hostess, and we'll get our cut!"

"Alright, alright, let's get out of here before someone comes!"

They hurried away, leaving Isabella lying there, her chest heaving violently.

So it was... Sophie...

There was no one around the villa entrance. She struggled to reach for her phone to call for help.

But the phone was too far away—she could only reach a speed dial button.

She had no choice but to press it.

After all these years, she only had one person on speed dial: Ethan.

The call connected quickly.

"Hello, Bella?"

Isabella used her last bit of strength to speak, "Ethan, quick... call an ambulance..."

But she could hear commotion on the other end.

Isabella faintly heard Sophie's crying.

"Professor, do you think something's wrong with the baby?"

Ethan's attention was immediately captured completely. He hadn't heard what Isabella was saying and spoke hurriedly.

"Bella, I have an emergency here to deal with. I'll call you back later."

He hung up directly.

Beep, beep, beep.

The busy tone echoed in the empty car as Isabella closed her eyes in despair.

Her strength was draining away, her skull felt like it was splitting open, and countless memories flashed through her mind like a slideshow...

The moment Ethan slipped the ring on her finger...

The moment before surgery when Ethan held her hand and begged her not to leave...

The moment when she woke up and he cried tears of joy...

Isabella finally couldn't hold on anymore and slowly closed her eyes.

Then suddenly she heard—

"Someone's been in an accident here! Quick! Come help!"

Isabella felt herself being pulled from the car as ambulance sirens wailed around her.

Then—

"No good, she needs surgery!"

"But surgery might cause premature memory loss!"

"Forget about memory loss! Saving her life comes first—operate now!"

The sharp smell of disinfectant filled her nostrils as Isabella finally gave in and lost consciousness completely...

After surgery, Isabella remained unconscious for three days and nights.

On the third day, she finally woke up.

"Bella!"

Ethan, who had been keeping vigil by her bedside, rushed to take her hand.

The usually composed and dignified man now looked completely haggard, his face covered with stubble.

But he paid no attention to his appearance, only gripping Isabella's hand anxiously.

"Bella, how do you feel? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?

"I'm sorry—I never should have hung up on you that day. I didn't know you'd been in an accident. I'm so sorry..."

Ethan was almost in tears.

But Isabella in front of him just frowned slightly.

She remained unmoved by Ethan's tears, simply withdrew her hand and looked at him warily before speaking coldly.

"Who are you?"