Ran Away Pregnant Came Back Alpha Heiress (Amelia and Damien) novel Chapter 90

**Night Whispers Forgotten Names – Colin Shah**
**Chapter 90**

**Amelia’s POV**

As I approached the doorway to Healer Eve’s office, I noticed her seated behind a cluttered desk, deeply engrossed in the paperwork that sprawled across her desktop. The door stood ajar, yet I felt a compulsion to knock, a lingering habit of respect and formality.

She lifted her gaze, momentarily breaking her concentration, and the pen she had been gripping slipped from her fingers, landing softly on the desk.

“Amelia? You are here early,” she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of surprise mixed with a touch of warmth.

“I wanted to speak to you,” I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. “And to give you this.” I raised the folded resignation letter, its edges crisp from the morning’s ink. I had signed it just hours ago, before Jake had driven me here. I didn’t want him to waste his time waiting around, so I had masked my true feelings, pretending that everything was perfectly fine. I would figure out another way to get home.

Behind me, Cara lingered in the hallway, close enough to hear every word but, as always, I knew she would remain silent. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had sensed my intentions, her keen observation perhaps revealing more than I had shared.

“Come in,” Eve urged, gesturing for me to step closer.

The icy demeanor that had once clouded her eyes began to soften, replaced by an expression that resembled pity, as if the anger she felt towards the situation had begun to dissipate.

Yet, I didn’t want her pity. The coldness I had received was what I believed I deserved for the errors I had committed.

As I entered the room, I extended the resignation letter toward her, my hand trembling slightly. She leaned back in her chair, unfolding the letter with a careful touch, her eyes flitting over the words as if searching for something beyond the ink.

“You want to quit…” she said, her tone laced with a confusion that was almost palpable.

“Given the nature of my mistakes, I don’t feel it is appropriate for me to continue,” I explained, my heart heavy with the weight of my decision.

“I disagree,” Eve countered, her voice firm. “You have been reprimanded. Losing an apprentice like you would be a significant loss for the entire hospital. Moreover, we are short-staffed.”

“I’m truly sorry, Eve,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need to accept responsibility for what I’ve done. Mistakes like this… it’s clear that I’m simply not meant to be a healer.”

“We’ve all made mistakes,” Eve said, her tone softening slightly. “Some are more serious than others, but the patient was not harmed, Amelia. If you can just be more careful in the future, there’s no reason for this.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the letter onto her desk, the paper landing with a soft thud.

“But I was careful, Healer Eve,” I insisted, the frustration bubbling within me. “I took so many precautions, triple-checking everything, and yet this still happened. This mistake must be a sign from the Moon Goddess that I need to pursue a different path.”

Eve leaned forward, her expression earnest. “You are a damn good healer, Amelia. You have a natural talent.”

“That doesn’t matter if I can’t focus,” I replied, my voice tinged with desperation.

Eve fixed me with a long, searching look. “I can’t convince you otherwise?”

“I’m sorry, but no,” I stated firmly, feeling the finality of my decision settle in.

With a deep sigh, she lowered her head, a hint of resignation in her posture. “Very well, then. But will you at least stay long enough for us to find someone to fill your position? Not that anyone could match your talent.”

“How long?” I asked, my heart aching at the thought of leaving her in a bind.

“A week?” she suggested, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

“I will give you two days,” I replied, not wanting to leave her entirely shorthanded. “But even then, I’m not sure it will be worth it. If someone gets hurt…”

“No one is going to get hurt,” Eve assured me, though I remained unconvinced.

“I’d like to stay on clerical duty,” I added, hoping to ease the burden on her.

Eve sighed again, a sound filled with both relief and frustration. “Very well, but please add the surgery scheduling to your tasks for today. They’ve been struggling to keep everything organized over there.”

“Understood,” I replied, feeling the weight of my responsibilities settle on my shoulders.

Watching her retreat, a spark of fury ignited within me. Amelia was the one who nearly caused a patient’s death, and I was the one being scolded?

Was the incident with the prescription not enough? Did I need to escalate my actions even further?

Yes, it seemed I did. And now that Amelia was working in surgery…

Returning to my desk, I unlocked the top drawer and pulled it open, revealing a few papers where I had practiced tracing Amelia’s signature. I had meticulously retraced the lines until I felt confident, capable of replicating it without hesitation.

Honestly, it was Amelia’s fault that this was so easy. Her signature was hardly distinctive—just a few swirls and a dot for the “i.”

First, I scanned the area to ensure no one was watching, then I practiced a few times, each stroke of the pen sending a thrill through me.

If I was going to execute my new, more dangerous plan, everything had to be flawless. One small mistake could unravel everything and bring the blame crashing back onto me.

What I was planning had to be monumental—not just one person, but three or four. I needed to orchestrate a screw-up so catastrophic that no one would feel any sympathy for her.

It had to be airtight, so meticulously crafted that it could only be perceived as malicious.

Then everyone—Jake, Mom and Dad, Healer Eve—would see Amelia for who she truly was.

She was no kind-hearted soul, no matter how much she pretended to be.

Only I knew the truth. And if I had to manipulate some paperwork and jeopardize a few lives to finally expose her true nature, then so be it.

Nothing else had worked.

Filled with a sense of determination, I closed and locked the desk, grabbed my pen, and set off toward surgery.