Chapter Sixty-Nine Ella
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Ella
“Darling! I was beginning to get worried you got lost.”
My jaw drops.
I blink a few times, certain I’m imagining things. I must be more tired than I thought.
“Claudette,” I cry out, a combination of relief and guilt hitting me all at once.
After fleeing the hospital today, I was convinced I’d never see her again.
I turn toward Rhia without thinking.
She isn’t looking at Claudette. She’s watching me. When she finally smiles, it’s small, almost tentative, as if she’s gauging whether I’m about to fall apart.
“Told you that you’d see her again,” she says.
Rhia knew?
I don’t know what to do with that realization yet, so I don’t reply.
“Ella, darling.” Claudette steps forward and wraps her arms around me. I cling to her, pressing my face against her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry I lashed out at you.”
She pulls back to look at me, her hands firm and warm on my arms.
“Darling, forget about it. You were in shock. Anger is natural. I knew you didn’t mean it. We’re good.”
My throat tightens. I nod, unable to find my voice. I look at her again, half-expecting her to vanish if I blink.
“How are you here?” I ask, still in disbelief.
“You didn’t really think I’d abandon you, did you? I kind of like hanging out with you and Rhi,” she says, chuckling softly.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” The words come out on a hiccup, because, honestly, in this situation I never stood a chance of holding the tears back.
Claudette cups my face briefly, her thumbs brushing beneath my eyes as if she can steady me by sheer will.
“Was that part of Lex’s plan all along?” I ask, then frown, my gaze dropping to her clothes. “And what are you wearing?”
Instead of her usual colorful, flowing kaftan, the kind she insists on wearing even in freezing temperatures, she’s dressed in a light blue nurse’s outfit.
“So many questions,” she says lightly. “I promise I will answer every single one. But first, let’s go inside and warm up.”
She shivers for effect, rubbing her hands together as if she’d been out in the cold for ages.
Despite everything, a small smile tugs at my lips. Just seeing her here does that to me.
Inside, the door closes behind us, the solid click of the lock echoing faintly in the entryway. Claudette turns the key with deliberate care.
“So,” I say again, unable to let it go, “what’s with the outfit?”
“Well, I had to leave the hospital without drawing attention to myself,” she laughs. “My bright orange and yellow dress would have been somewhat memorable.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I tell you what, though, this pants and blouse combination is terribly unflattering. And these pants are uncomfortable. And blue really isn’t my color.”
She rambles on as she tugs both Rhia’s hand and mine into the crook of her arm and steers us deeper into the house.
Rhia says nothing. I catch her reflection in the hallway mirror. Her expression is tight, her gaze fixed straight ahead.
“Come. Get acquainted with your new home. It’s pretty spectacular. It looks small and modest from the outside, but wait till you see the rest.”
Claudette steers us toward the living room, and the moment we step inside, I understand what she means by spectacular.
The far wall is almost entirely glass, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the dark outline of the mountains beyond. A sliver of moon hangs low in the sky, its pale light brushing the snow and turning the landscape faintly silver.
“The windows are triple-glazed,” Claudette says, pleased as if she’d built the place herself. “It keeps it cozy warm in here.”
My attention drifts to the large stone fireplace standing off to one side. A fire burns steadily within it, flames crackling softly, casting flickering shadows across the room.
Drawn to it, I move closer.
Welcoming heat seeps into my chilled skin, carrying the earthy scent of smoke and burning wood.
Wow, this is nice.
My shoulders loosen a fraction, my breath evening out as I soak in the warmth.
Rhia stops a few steps back, her gaze skimming the room before settling on me. She doesn’t move toward the windows, doesn’t step closer to the fire, as if she’s waiting to see whether I’ll steady or sway.
I frown at her, unsettled by the sudden distance, but too tired to press.
Does she want to let Claudette take over caring for me for a bit? Did I underestimate how exhausted she must be?
Rubbing my neck, I let my gaze drift back to the large windows, the calm, silvery scenery soothing. This must be some view by day.
Following my line of sight, Claudette gives my arm a gentle squeeze.
“Plenty of time to admire it later,” she says lightly. “Come, let me show you guys the rest.”
Reluctantly, I let her guide us toward the kitchen.
A man is sitting on a bar stool, his broad back turned toward us.
My step falters.
Who the heck is this?
I cock my head, shooting Claudette a questioning look. She only shrugs and keeps walking.
“We were just having a cup of tea before you got here.”
We?
“I’ve got one ready for you, too. Licorice, your favorite. And chamomile for you, Rhia.”
I step into the room slowly. The man on the bar stool turns.
My breath hitches, my body freezing in place.
“Doctor Carter?”
He smiles at me warmly. His whole demeanor is nothing like the man who delivered the worst moment of my life with cool, professional control.
“Yes, though my real name is Doctor Jonathan Prozesnik.”
I stare at him, my mind snagging on the name and giving up halfway through. Doctor Jonathan Proz… Yeah, no.
“We owe you an explanation,” he says.
I stay rooted in the doorway, my pulse beginning to race.
Unable to speak, I wait for him to continue.
“I’m associated with Freemont Security and have been working with Carl Freemont and Alexander Dougal on your behalf.”
My behalf?
“They explained we had to remove two people from a scene, one of whom they needed my help with.”
My heart starts beating faster, thudding hard against my ribs as I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
Two people.
Rhia and me?
My eyes go to her. She’s biting her lip, watching me.
Why would we need a doctor’s help to get out of the hospital?
I’m too tired to make sense of it.
Wait…
My eyes widen. My heart misses a beat before resuming its frantic pace.
Does that mean…?
Heat breaks out across my skin, then goosebumps follow.
Meanwhile, Dr. Proze… whatever his name is, keeps talking. I don’t hear a word of it.
I lift a hand, cutting him off.
“Does that…”
My voice cracks. I suddenly feel dizzy.
“Does that mean…”
I stop again.
Oh God, dare I hope?