He frowned deeply, then shook his head.
Maybe he was just being overly sensitive, actually suspecting one of his closest friends.
His mind drifted back to the phone call he'd received last night—the unfamiliar man's voice, the sound of a baby crying in the background.
And...
The scar on her abdomen.
At the thought of it, a flash of profound irritation and anguish crossed Pierce's face.
When he walked back into the room, Seraphina was already awake.
The moment their eyes met, Seraphina immediately shut hers again, acting as if she couldn't bear the sight of him.
Pierce asked softly, "You're awake? Are you hungry? The doctor said you still can't eat solid food, so you're on a glucose IV."
Seraphina kept her eyes firmly closed, completely unresponsive.
"I know you can hear me. If you don't want to talk, you don't have to. Speaking might aggravate your injury anyway. Quiet is fine."
Pierce sat back down in the visitor's chair, once again wrapping his hands around the IV tubing to warm it.
Ever since he returned to the country, he and Seraphina had barely exchanged a civil word.
He was still deeply haunted by what had happened three years ago, yet Seraphina showed zero intention of reconciling, constantly shutting him down before he could even get a word in.
He always knew she had a fierce, unyielding temper. What Pierce couldn't understand, however, was why—when she was the one who had betrayed him, she was the one who had made the mistake—she was still acting so incredibly self-righteous three years later.
During these three years, she had even had a child with another man, living her life freely and vibrantly.
Meanwhile, he had been trapped abroad, tormented by severe depression for three entire years, suffering in agonizing silence day and night.
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