MasukThey threw me away like I was nothing. Divorced me for my younger, prettier, fertile sister. I signed divorce papers while I suspected I was finally pregnant. Smiled while they handed me five thousand dollars and told me to disappear. I disappeared, alright. Off a cliff, Into freezing water. Nearly drowned carrying his twins. Someone wanted me dead. His family buried the investigation before my body was even cold, except there was no body. Because I survived. Ten years later, I walk back into their world as Dr. Scarlett Fox. The surgeon they're begging to save his dying mother. He doesn't recognize me until it's too late. Untill he sees my face and his entire world crumbles. Then he sees my kids, his kids. With his eyes and my fury. Now Nicholas's on his knees. Saying he spent a decade in hell thinking he killed me. Saying he's changed. But someone in his family is guilty, and as I dig deeper, people start watching. The man who saved me, Spencer, wants me to stop. He says it's too dangerous. That I should choose him, let the past stay buried. But I didn't survive murder just to run back scared. I'm Dr. Scarlett Fox now. Elite surgeon. Single mother. And I'm about to perform the most important operation of my life. Cutting out the cancer in the Cruz family. Even if it kills me this time.
Lihat lebih banyakScarlett's POV The ICU was more than the emergency floor. The nurse slid the glass door open just enough for me to step through. The monitors hit me first, steady beeps, the sigh of oxygen, the low continuous hum of machines doing work that should have been ordinary. Spencer lay in the bed, lines running from both arms. One leg was in a heavy brace, bruising spread dark across the left side of his face and down along his collarbone where the seatbelt had locked and had bandages on, his eyes were close. I had stood at the foot of beds like this a hundred times. I had delivered updates in a calm voice while families came apart in front of me, none of that training reached me now. My throat closed and my hands started shaking before I even reached the rail. This was not a patient. This was the man who made coffee every morning for eleven years, who counted standing kicks so a ten-year-old’s heart rate stayed safe, who had walked out of our kitchen hours earlier with his jaw locked an
Scarlett's POV I don’t remember most of the drive. One minute I was standing in the kitchen with the hospital still on the phone, the next I was pushing through the emergency department doors with my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my teeth, he air smelled like disinfectant and floor wax. Someone at the desk asked me to spell the last name twice before they would tell me anything. “Spencer Ashford, I’m the emergency contact." My voice was shaky. "They called me.” "Trauma is still with him," The nurse checked a screen, typed something, then pointed down a corridor. “Family waiting area is to the left. Someone will come out when they can.” I didn’t sit. I stood near the double doors with my arms locked around myself and stared at the scuffed linoleum until the pattern stopped making sense. People moved past me with clipboards and badges. Every time the doors opened I looked up too fast. A doctor in blue scrubs finally pushed through. . He looked exhausted, his mask han
Scarlett's POVI was still sitting on the bottom step when I heard the first set of footsteps on the stairs.I stood up fast, wiped my face with the back of my hand, and walked into the kitchen before either of them could see me on the floor. I turned on the faucet and let the cold water run over my wrists until the skin went numb. The coffee Spencer had made was still sitting on the counter, half-cold, the dark surface reflecting the overhead light. I poured it down the sink. The smell of it made the empty space near the stove feel sharper. I started a fresh pot because the silence needed something ordinary to fill it.Valeria came in first, sketchbook tucked under her arm, socks quiet on the tile. She stopped just inside the doorway and looked at the place where Spencer usually stood with the spatula, her fingers tightened on the edge of the sketchbook, then she looked at me.“Good morning,” I kept my voice even. “Sit down, I’m making eggs.”She set the sketchbook on the table witho
Scarlett's POV I went upstairs after the kids were finally settled. Spencer was already in the bedroom. The lamp on his side was on, throwing a yellow circle across the floor. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the spot where the carpet met the wall. He hadn’t come down for dinner. I’d left a plate covered on the counter and it was still there when I came up, the pasta gone cold. I closed the door behind me carefully so it wouldn’t click too loud. “You didn’t come down for dinner.” I said. "I wasn't hungry," he said flatly. I set my phone on the dresser and sat on my side of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight. He didn’t look over, his shoulders were tight. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing," he said. "I'm just tired.” I watched the side of his face. The muscle near his jaw kept jumping. I knew that look. “You’ve been different since Nicholas left this afternoon,” I said. “You’re giving me one-word answers. You didn’t sit with us after t












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