Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 371 - Chapitre 380

Regina’s POVThe hospital room was half-lit, bathed in the soft blue glow of monitors and the faint scent of antiseptic.Sandra Chamberlain sat by the bed, fussing over his blanket, smoothing it again and again even though it was already perfect.She kept talking under her breath, little murmurs of worry, complaints about how “the staff should’ve been quicker,” and how “children shouldn’t be left in the care of others.”Her tone made my skin prickle. I said nothing.Mia was asleep down the hall, my parents watching over her. I should have felt relieved that they were there, that she wasn’t alone, but my mind kept drifting back here, to this room, to Ivan. He looked so fragile, his lashes pressed against flushed cheeks, a faint sweat on his temple.Sandra was acting like his mother.And maybe once, if she and I were on better terms, I would’ve stepped back to let her. But not anymore. Not after everything that had happened.When Ivan stirred slightly, Sandra immediately leaned in, whis

Regina’s POVI gasped and nearly stumbled back when a shadow stepped into view, tall, broad-shouldered, blocking out the harsh fluorescent light from the hallway.“Frederick!” I exhaled, pressing a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”He tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”His voice was calm, steady, but there was something searching in his gaze, something that made my nerves hum. Before I could even think of a lie, he took a step forward, glancing past me toward the corner where my father and Mr. Harper had just disappeared.Panic flared in me.“No—wait,” I said quickly, stepping closer and placing both hands against the sides of his face, turning him toward me before he could see. His skin was warm beneath my palms, the tension in his jaw like coiled wire. “Don’t—”And that was exactly the moment Maxwell rounded the corner.He froze.For a second, everything felt suspended in air, the sterile lights, the soft hum of the vents, even the muted hospital s

Maxwell’s POVI didn’t know how to make any of this right.Regina hadn’t spoken a single word since we left the station.She just stared out the passenger window, her reflection blurred in the glass, her hands clenched in her lap. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, it was heavy, like something fragile that might splinter if I said the wrong thing.I kept driving anyway, because stopping meant facing the full weight of it, the way Detective Sanders had said schizophrenia so casually, like it explained everything.The way Regina’s face had drained of color. The way my own gut had twisted because I knew, knew deep down, that none of it made sense.Beatrice Rodriguez wasn’t insane.The woman I’d met hadn’t been lost in delusion; she’d been heartbroken, terrified, and desperate, but not mad.She spoke in riddles sometimes, yes, but her eyes had been too clear for insanity. They were the eyes of someone haunted by truth, not fiction.And that was what terrified me most.I glanced

Morgana’s POVI stood outside the small, sterile room at the end of the east corridor of the Serenity Wellness Center, staring through the narrow glass panel in the door.The woman inside was nothing more than a shadow of who she once was, thin, gray-skinned, her hair a dull mat around her face.The nurses had just given her another injection. I could see the faint tremor in her fingers as she tried to lift her hand, but it fell uselessly against the blanket again.Beatrice Rodriguez.My lips curled faintly.I couldn’t believe this old woman had almost ruined everything. If we hadn’t been tailing Regina and Maxwell that night, she might have managed to say something… something that would have sent everything spiraling out of control. The thought still made my stomach twist.Beatrice had always been more trouble than she was worth. Years ago, she had been clever enough to sense that things weren’t as they seemed. She’d tried to pry into what wasn’t her concern, to whisper truths that w

Regina’s POVIt was nearing midnight.The hospital corridor buzzed faintly, a sound that seemed to grow louder the longer I sat in silence.Maxwell had said he would return, he’d even promised, but the hours stretched endlessly, and he still wasn’t here.My mother had gone home earlier, exhausted, and Lindsay had followed not long after.That left me alone in the quiet room with Mia and Ivan, both of whom had finally drifted off to sleep.I’d fed them some soup earlier, the mild kind the nurse suggested, and now their soft, even breathing was the only thing keeping me grounded.The private room Maxwell had arranged was larger than most hospital rooms I’d ever seen, a plush couch, a coffee table to the side, and warm lighting that tried its best to disguise the sterile air of disinfectant.I should’ve been grateful for it. But gratitude wasn’t what I felt tonight.My stomach rolled, a hollow, sickly feeling spreading through me. I tried to recall when I’d last eaten. Breakfast, maybe?