Chapter 18
When he saw my eyes open, he asked, “should I call Charles about this?”
I was taken aback, unsure how to respond.
A wave of bitterness washed over me. Chloe had told me that Charles hadn’t spoken to me in
five years.
Tristan checked my complexion and said slowly, “You don’t look good. I think I should call him. You’re his little sister, after all; you’re still family.
“Jason will be here soon to check on you. If you don’t start feeling better, we might have to admit you to the hospital tonight.”
He hesitated, then added, “It’s not that I didn’t want you to stay in the hospital today. I just worried you’d be alone.”
I managed to hold back my tears when he mentioned my brother. But when he spoke those
uncontrollably.
final words, my tears began to flo
Tristan noticed and gently said, “Don’t cry. It’s okay. You’ll be alright.”
He took out his phone and stepped outside to make a call.
I cried quietly for a while. When Tristan returned to the room, I glanced at him with hope.
His expression was complex. After a moment, he smiled and said, “I called Charles. He’s currently abroad but will be back to see you in a couple of days.”
My heart sank.
I glanced away and let out a bitter laugh. “He won’t forgive me, will he?”
Tristan remained silent.
I sniffled. “It’s alright. I know he’s still angry.”
Despite my words, a deep sense of disappointment washed over me, and I found myself crying again. The mattress dipped beside me as Tristan leaned closer. Embarrassed to be crying once more, I quickly wiped away my tears.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
I nodded absently.
Just as he was about to say something, his phone rang on the bedside table. Tristan’s eyes brightened, and he answered it right in front of me.
A familiar voice came from the other end of the line. “Tristan, how is she?”
I Instantly recognized the voice.
“Charles” I grabbed the phone, my sobs escaping uncontrollably. “Charles, I miss you.”
A moment of silence lingered on the other end, interrupted only by my tears. After a long pause, I heard a sigh of resignation on the other end. “Wyn, what’s wrong?”
What was wrong with me? What wasn’t wrong?
I glanced at Tristan, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m scared, Charles. Please come pick me up. I want to go home!”
Before I could say anything more, Tristan took the phone from me and stepped out of the room to take the call.
This time, he spoke with Charles for quite a while. By the time he returned, I was already starting to feel drowsy. I noticed that he appeared more relaxed.
Then Jason, the person he had mentioned, arrived. I had expected him to come alone, but he brought along an entire medical team.
There was a doctor, two nurses, and someone who looked like a pharmacist. They used portable equipment to examine me, prepared some medication, and quietly discussed my condition.
After a while, the IV was in place, and I found myself drifting in and out of consciousness.
I heard Tristan ask, “Does she need to be hospitalized?”
Jason responded, “It’s not too serious. It seems to be post–concussion syndrome. She just needs to rest in bed for a couple of days and avoid any strenuous activities or getting too excited.”
I wanted to hear more, but the medication was making me drowsy, and I soon fell asleep.
