The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 601

She pulled the curtains shut and walked back to sit on the sofa.

Her heart was beating a little fast, but she didn't panic.

Since The Duke was sending people to watch her, she would put on a show for them.

Early the next morning, Lydia left the apartment as usual. The dark gray sedan was already waiting downstairs. She got in and fastened her seatbelt.

"Ms. Langford, are we heading to campus today?"

"Yes. But I booked an appointment with a doctor for this afternoon. I'm feeling a bit unwell. You don't need to drive me; I'll go by myself."

The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror. "What's wrong? Do you want me to drop you off?"

"No. I'll go by myself."

The driver didn't press further. The car started and drove toward the university.

Through the window, Lydia spotted the black sedan. It was tailing them at a steady distance, like a shadow she couldn't shake.

At three in the afternoon, she left campus and hailed a taxi.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"The hospital. The nearest private maternity hospital."

The driver checked her in the rearview mirror, didn't ask questions, and stepped on the gas.

Lydia looked back—the black car was tailing steadily, maintaining a two-car distance, neither too fast nor too slow. She turned forward and took a deep breath.

The hospital was small but looked very professional. She registered as a standard outpatient and waited in the seating area. Her hands rested on her knees, fingers twisting her bag strap. She kept her head down, looking incredibly anxious.

A heavily pregnant woman sat next to her, accompanied by a man who was likely her husband. The two were whispering to each other. The man rubbed the woman's belly with a very tender smile.

Lydia took one look and quickly averted her eyes. She kept her head down, pursing her lips as her eyes slowly turned red.

It wasn't an act. She genuinely felt miserable.

After nearly half an hour of waiting, a nurse called her in.

The doctor was a French woman in her forties, wearing glasses and looking quite gentle. She glanced at Lydia's registration slip and then at her face.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I..." Lydia lowered her head. "I'd like to consult about getting an abortion."

The doctor didn't look particularly surprised; she had probably seen it all before.

"How many weeks?"

"About four."