Sophia’s face was deathly pale.
Her brows were tightly drawn together.
Her lips trembled as if life itself was draining from her.
Ethan arrived in a frantic rush the moment he got the call.
He burst into the oxygen room.
The sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic assaulted his senses.
His eyes immediately found Sophia on the hospital bed—clinging to life by a thread.
A doctor turned to address him. “Mr. Blackwood, Miss Reed’s condition is extremely critical. We are utilizing every resource available.”
A nurse spoke to Ethan. “Are you family? Please hold her hands—she keeps trying to remove the oxygen mask.” Ethan’s gaze remained fixed on Sophia.
Inside the mask, condensation had fogged the plastic, making each breath a visible struggle. She was fighting to remain conscious.
Ethan moved swiftly, following the nurse’s instruction. His strong, capable hands pressed down firmly on Sophia’s, pinning them to the bed to keep her still. Sophia’s voice was a fragile, broken whisper. “Ethan… I feel so awful…”
Ethan’s brow furrowed with instant worry. “Sophia, stay with me. The doctors are handling this.”
Sophia’s fingers twitched weakly, a feeble attempt to grasp his hands, but Ethan deliberately pulled his away. Instead, he increased the pressure on her wrists, ensuring the oxygen mask stayed securely in place.
His focus was absolute, his entire world narrowing to the woman on the bed. The rest of the room faded into a distant hum. Nothing else mattered.
Despite the agony, a deep, twisted satisfaction coiled within Sophia. As long as she held Ethan’s attention here, Isabella wouldn’t get the help she needed. She would die.
Meanwhile, Isabella sat in the self-driving car, a deep unease settling in her gut.
Something felt profoundly wrong.
Was it mere coincidence that she had run into Sophia twice at this very hospital?
Who had sent those photos and that letter to her grandmother?
Who knew that much about her life, her family?
It had to be… Sophia, right?
Before Isabella could fully process the terrifying thought, a car blatantly ran a red light.
It slammed into the side of her vehicle with a deafening, crushing bang!
The world upended.
Isabella was thrown around violently like a rag doll, her body jolted with every brutal impact.
Pure panic surged through her.
She instinctively wrapped her arms around her abdomen, a protective shield for her baby.
Her head struck the window with a sickening crack.
Searing pain exploded through her skull.
Warm blood streamed down her forehead.
Her vision swam, blurring and fading as she fought to stay focused.
Through the dizzying pain, Isabella saw it—flames beginning to lick at the car’s exterior, creeping closer with terrifying speed.
Icy fear gripped her heart, freezing her in place.
Her breath caught, coming in shallow, frantic gasps.
The seatbelt and deployed airbag held her trapped.
The door was pinned shut against the ground.
Isabella’s fingers twitched, the only part of her she could still move.
She could feel the intense heat of the approaching fire.
A cold, horrifying realization washed over her: if she didn’t escape now, the flames would consume her and her baby.
“Help…” Her voice was a mere whisper, utterly drowned by the roaring fire.
Each breath felt like inhaling pure fire, the thick smoke stinging her lungs and clouding her mind.
Her body was going numb.
With a desperate, trembling effort, she forced her bloody fingers to find her phone.
The screen was smeared with her own blood.
Desperation gave her a final burst of strength.
She frantically pressed the power button three times.
The phone automatically dialed her emergency contact.
Ethan.
She had set it up long ago, believing he would always be there when she needed him most.