When Sylvia rushed into the hospital, a flurry of reporters was already spilling out onto the steps, cameras
flashing around two people in the center of the crowd.
Rupert and Reese.
Reese clutched a bouquet of red roses, cheeks flushed pink as she tried to avoid the cameras.
One reporter leaned in, mic at the ready. "Ms. Sanford, why were you admitted to the hospital?"
Reese froze, hugging the roses tighter to her chest, and glanced instinctively at Rupert.
Rupert stepped forward, shielding her from the crowd, his tone cool and even. "Nothing serious. Just a check-up,
making sure she's in good health."
The mention of a check-up, with the wedding just a month away, was enough for everyone to read between the
lines.
Another reporter grinned. "So, Mr. Rupert, are we expecting a double celebration soon?"
Rupert didn't answer, but the little smile on his face was all the confirmation they needed.
Reese felt everyone's gaze drift toward her stomach, her cheeks burning even brighter.
Once they got in the car, the flashes still stinging her eyes, Reese hid her face in Rupert's chest with a sigh.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "I didn't mean to make things awkward."
Rupert wrapped his arm around her, blocking out the flashes. "Just give them a story and they'll stop digging
around the hospital."
Reese relaxed into his embrace, listening to the steady thump of his heart. She couldn't help but draw closer.
She could tell, deep down, that Rupert didn't dislike her. Maybe after they were married, feelings would grow.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMaybe everything would turn out alright.
She squeezed him tighter, hopeful.
As their car rolled past Sylvia, she caught a blurred glimpse of the two embracing
in the backseat before she stepped out of the way and headed into the hospital without looking back.
Rupert noticed something, glancing out the window just as the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon.
The afternoon faded away.
In the hospital room.
Sylvia pushed open the door to find Naomi curled up under the covers, trembling.
"Mom?" Sylvia called softly, stepping closer. Naomi only shook harder.
Sylvia rushed over, pulling back the blanket. "Mom, it's me! What happened?"
Naomi resisted at first, but Sylvia's grip was firmer. Finally, she peeled the blanket away.
Naomi's face was streaked with tears and mottled with bruises. A deep, red handprint stood out starkly against
her cheek-so angry and raw that the skin seemed to bleed.
"Don't look at me, Sylvia," Naomi choked, shrinking in on herself.
Sylvia's stomach turned. Her hand hovered, wanting to comfort her mother but afraid to touch the raw, wounded
skin.
The bruises weren't the worst of it.
When Naomi lifted her shirt, Sylvia
saw body hintsises
even more marks and
covering her her of
something worse lurking beneath the surface. s
Sylvia drew in a sharp breath, her mind racing with horrible possibilities. She forced herself to stay calm-she had
to keep it together for her mother's sake.
Gritting her teeth, she gently covered Naomi's body again and took her hand. "Mom, you need to breathe. Just
tellwhat happened, okay?"
Naomi clung to her, shaking as she whispered, "Sof the ladies
invitedover for a gnight. ow how it is-don't run.
You
things anymore but you can't say no
to those invitations."
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Sylvia nodded. She understood the
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