His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 81

**TITLE: Betrayal Births by Joseph King**

**Chapter 81**

**Claire’s POV**

The morning light filtered through the window with a gentle softness, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. Even before I dared to open my eyes, I could feel its warmth brushing against my cheeks, a subtle reminder that a new day was unfolding. The steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor continued its patient vigil, a sound that had become my constant companion since the moment I regained consciousness.

My throat was parched, a dry sensation that clawed at me, demanding attention. I reached out for the glass of water perched on the tray beside me, but my hand felt feeble, as if it belonged to someone else. The cup trembled precariously against the metal surface, and for a heartbeat, I feared it would slip from my grasp. Just then, a nurse entered the room with a swift grace, catching the glass before it could tumble.

“Easy there,” she said, her voice soothing as she set the cup down safely. She adjusted my pillow with practiced care, her movements calm and assured. “You’re recovering nicely, but take your time.”

I nodded in response, my voice barely a whisper, too weak to form a proper reply. She flashed me a reassuring smile, her eyes glancing at the monitor before she turned to look at me once more.

“Dr. Adrian will be in shortly,” she informed me. “He wanted to check in on you this morning.”

At the mention of his name, an unfamiliar sensation stirred within me, a subtle shift that felt like a gentle tugging at my core. I wasn’t entirely sure why his presence mattered so much, but I found myself instinctively sitting up a bit straighter, anticipation mingling with anxiety.

When Dr. Adrian finally entered the room, it was as if the very atmosphere shifted. His coat was impeccably tailored, the cuffs folded neatly, and his expression was one of calm authority. He exchanged a brief greeting with the nurse before his gaze fell upon me.

“Good morning, Claire,” he said, his voice steady and warm.

I met his eyes, and that strange flicker returned, a spark of recognition that sent a ripple through my chest. “Morning,” I managed to reply, my voice soft yet earnest.

He approached my bedside, his attention momentarily drawn to the monitor before he turned back to me. “How’s the pain today?” he inquired, his tone both professional and caring.

“It’s not bad,” I admitted, though my voice cracked slightly. The ache in my ribs had dulled significantly since the night before, a small relief in the midst of uncertainty.

“Good to hear,” he replied, nodding approvingly. “Your vitals are stable, which is a promising sign that you’re on the mend.”

As he flipped through the chart at the foot of my bed, I observed the way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. When he looked up again, his demeanor shifted, the gravity of his next words evident.

“There’s something we need to discuss,” he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “It’s about your heart.”

My heart. The weight of those words settled heavily in the air, and suddenly, a fragment of memory sparked to life within me—a vivid image of a white bottle, round pills, and the bitter taste that lingered on my tongue.

I straightened in bed, a flicker of urgency in my voice. “I take medication, don’t I?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

He paused, surprise flickering across his face. “You remember that?”

I frowned, desperately trying to grasp the thread of my recollection. “Yes. There were two bottles. One for mornings and another for nights. I remember the label. It said—” My voice trailed off as the rest of the memory slipped from my grasp like sand through my fingers. “But I can’t recall where I kept them.”

He regarded me thoughtfully, his gaze unwavering. “That’s good, Claire. It’s progress. You have a mild congenital heart condition, and you’ve been managing it for years with medication. We’ll keep a close watch on you while you’re here.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify