"I arranged a bed for you. Don't come back tonight."
Julia's mouth twitched awkwardly. For a second, she thought she'd misheard. "It's just a small cut. I'll come back after they bandage it—"
"Too late. The Harrison house has a curfew. You won't make it back in time."
Irene had mentioned curfews. The Harrisons had plenty of old-money rules. Julia hadn't worried—those ancient families always had traditions.
But she'd forgotten.
The elders didn't even live here. Young people usually ignored that stuff.
She'd trapped herself. She even considered breaking the rule anyway—make Lucas see how special she was.
"Wait. Since when do we have a curfew?"
Sherry looked genuinely confused, like she'd never heard of such a thing.
Lucas smiled. "Since now. One-day trial."
Julia's face finally cracked. The smugness crumbled. The practiced poise shattered.
But the ambulance didn't care. They took her away, per Lucas' orders.
When Julia tried to get out mid-ride? Forget it. They drove her to the farthest hospital possible.
By the time she got back, like Sherry said, that wound would've healed itself.
Despite the manipulation, the EMTs still checked her injury professionally. Their expressions were... something.
But Lucas had called. And they worked for Harrison Group. They knew which way the wind blew.
"Go sleep over there." They pushed the cart off.
Good manners kept Julia from rolling her eyes.
She was furious. She wanted to grab that nurse and beat her up to vent the fire boiling inside.

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