Annabel scratched her head, undoing all the work she’d put into making her hair neat. With a sigh, she said, “I honestly don’t even know what to say anymore.”
Her own love life was a mess, and Grace seemed to lose her mind at the drop of a hat.
Thank goodness Grace had married such a patient husband, someone willing to put up with her temper. Anyone else probably would’ve divorced her by now.
Annabel felt a pang of guilt whenever she thought about facing Clay. She really didn’t know how to look him in the eye.
Just then, the light above the operating room finally flicked off. Grace was wheeled out, still under the lingering effects of anesthesia, lying peacefully on the hospital bed.
Annabel looked at her, so still and quiet, and murmured, “This is the only time she’s actually adorable.”
Turning to Lyman and Effie, Annabel said, “Thank you both for waiting here so long. Really, you should head home and get some rest.”
Lyman frowned slightly and replied, “Don’t say that, Annabel. We’re family.”
Annabel managed a tired smile. “Exactly—and people, even family, aren’t made of steel. Everyone gets worn out. Go get some sleep, okay?”
She thought to herself that if she were in their shoes, she would’ve lost it by now.
“At the very least, you should change your clothes before you go. Otherwise, someone’s going to think you’ve just committed murder.”
Lyman glanced down and gave a rueful laugh. Sure enough, there were little spatters of blood on his shirt, blooming like tiny, alarming flowers. No wonder people had been staring as they passed.
He said, “Alright, I’ll head out now. If you need anything, just call me.”
“Okay,” Annabel replied with a weary nod.
Effie squeezed his hand in silent support, but she didn’t say much more; she didn’t know the details of Grace’s struggles—everything she’d heard was secondhand. It wasn’t her place to judge. Maybe someday, when she understood Grace better, she’d have more to say.
Back in the hospital room, Grace was starting to come around as the anesthesia wore off.
“Lyman!” she called, eyes fluttering open.
But when she looked around, it was only Annabel standing there—no sign of Lyman.
Grace’s expression darkened, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She turned her head away, unwilling to meet Annabel’s gaze.
But Annabel wasn’t about to let her off that easily. She reached out, gently but firmly turning Grace’s head back to face her. Locking eyes with her, Annabel said coldly, “Now that you see it’s me, you can drop the act, can’t you?”
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