Chapter 287: A Second Lily

\[Sarah\]

I opened my eyes slowly, consciousness returning like a reluctant tide. Harsh fluorescent light stabbed at my retinas, forcing me to blink rapidly as a sterile, antiseptic smell filled my nostrils. Unfamiliar white ceiling. Unknown room. Beeping machines. My mind felt wrapped in cotton, thoughts sluggish and disconnected as I tried to piece together what had happened and where I was.

Fragments of memory flickered at the edges of my awareness—a crystal coffin, a dead woman's face, gunshots echoing through darkness—but they slipped away like water through my fingers when I tried to grasp them. 

When I noticed the IV line snaking into my arm, panic shot through me like an electric current. My baby! I was pregnant. I shouldn't be receiving medication. I had to protect our baby.

My fingers fumbled clumsily with the tape securing the IV, heart racing as I tried to pull it out. "No, no, no," I whispered, voice rasping from disuse, my throat painfully dry.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" A nurse appeared beside me, materializing as if from nowhere. Her cool hands gently but firmly restrained mine, her face pinched with concern. "You're ill and need this IV. Don't move—I'll call the doctor!"

I tried to protest, but only a weak croak escaped my parched lips. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes as she hurried away, the door swinging closed behind her with a soft whoosh. My hand instinctively drifted to my abdomen, fingers splaying protectively over the small swell there. A flutter of relief washed through me—the baby was still there. I could feel it.

The nurse quickly returned with a physician. "Ms. Sullivan, you were shot in the arm and underwent surgery," he explained in the careful, measured tone. "Today is your fourth day in the hospital."

The words hit me like physical blows. Four days? Surgery? The disconnect between what he was saying and what I could remember sent a wave of dizziness washing over me. My mouth opened and closed several times before I could force out words.

"I've been here four days?" My voice sounded foreign to my own ears—small and frightened. The room seemed to tilt slightly, reality shifting beneath me like unstable ground. "And had surgery? What medications did you use?" 

My fingers pressed more firmly against my stomach, seeking reassurance from the small life inside me. Panic clawed at my chest, making my heart race and my breath come in shallow gasps. "I'm pregnant—I can't take just anything..."

The doctor's expression changed then. Compassion and regret washed over his features as he pulled a chair closer to my bedside and sat down, bringing himself to eye level with me.

"Your husband consented to the necessary medications," he began, each word measured and heavy with significance. His eyes held mine, steady and sorrowful. "But I'm very sorry to tell you that your baby... we had to terminate the pregnancy."

Time stopped. The world around me fell away completely, sound fading to a distant, underwater murmur. I felt my chest constrict, lungs forgetting how to draw breath. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears as blackness crowded the edges of my vision. 

No. No. No. No. The denial repeated in my mind like a broken record, increasing in volume until it became a silent scream that filled every atom of my being. 

"What husband? We're not married! No one has the right to decide my baby's life or death!" My voice trembled with fury.My hands pressed harder against my stomach, as if I could somehow feel the truth, as if I could prove him wrong through sheer force of will. "You're wrong."

The doctor's face blurred through my tears, his response lost to the roaring in my ears. 

The doctor quickly apologized, his eyes widening at my emotional outburst. "Miss Sullivan, I'm sorry. Mr. Pierce didn't claim to be your husband. He only stated that he was the father of your child."

"Even if he is the baby's father, he doesn't have that right!" My voice cracked. Tears spilled down my cheeks in hot, angry streams while my fists clutched the hospital sheets so tightly my knuckles turned white. The monitor beside me beeped faster, matching my racing heart.

The door creaked open, and Mike stepped in, his expression shifting from caution to relief when he saw me awake.

"Sarah, you're finally awake!" He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, reaching for a tissue to dab at my tears. His touch was gentle, but his words cut deep. "Don't cry. To be honest, Theodore and I think the same way—between you and the baby, you're definitely more important. You can have another child if this one is lost, but if we lose you, we lose everything."

I jerked away from his hand as if burned, a wave of nausea washing over me. My jaw clenched so tight it ached. 

Mike's shoulders slumped as he sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I know you're not only physically suffering but also emotionally traumatized," he said, his voice softening. "But Theodore really didn't do anything wrong this time... From the moment he learned you were kidnapped until you were successfully rescued, he barely closed his eyes. Only when the doctor said you were still alive did he finally breathe a sigh of relief."

The mention of Theodore's name sent a fresh stab of pain through my chest. I closed my eyes, but that only made it worse—instantly, I was back in that white villa, the silver-haired man's cold voice slithering through my mind, the crystal coffin gleaming under harsh lights, Daniel's blood-soaked bandages...

"It's my fault..." The words escaped as a broken whisper. My throat felt raw, as though I'd been screaming for hours. I pressed my palm against my mouth to stifle a sob, my body trembling with the effort.

I had endangered Daniel, causing him to lose a finger. I had made Theodore and Mike run themselves ragged for me. I had failed the baby growing inside me. All of these tragedies stemmed from me.

"Sarah, don't blame yourself. This isn't your fault," Mike squeezed my ice-cold hand. His warmth only emphasized how cold I felt inside, as if something vital had frozen within me. "Right now, you just need to recover. Once you're discharged, we'll return to America."

I turned away, staring vacantly at the ceiling where hairline cracks formed a pattern like tiny rivers. My mind felt similarly fractured, thoughts scattering in a thousand directions. Mike's words floated around me like distant echoes in a canyon, recognizable but impossible to grasp.

"Sarah, shall I call the doctor to change your dressing? You still have two bottles of antibiotics to receive today," Mike gently coaxed, leaning forward to catch my distant gaze.

I could only shake my head, my lips pressing into a thin line as I refused treatment. What was the point?

"Alright then, when Theodore arrives, you two can talk," Mike sat beside the bed, quietly keeping me company.

The minutes crawled by like hours. When the door finally opened, my pulse quickened. Theodore's tall figure filled the doorway, his presence instantly charging the sterile hospital air.

"Sarah, he's here." Mike squeezed my hand once before rising and slipping out, the soft click of the door behind him sounding oddly final.

Theodore approached slowly, as if afraid I might shatter. The harsh fluorescent lights accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, the new lines etched around his mouth. His usually immaculate appearance had crumbled – tie loosened, shirt wrinkled, stubble darkening his jaw. When our eyes met, something inside me broke.

"Sarah, don't cry." His fingertips brushed my cheeks with such tenderness it only made the tears fall faster. His voice, normally so commanding, sounded raw and wounded. "If you still want children, we can have another. However many you want, we'll have them."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I grabbed his hand, digging my nails into his skin, desperate to make him understand.

"I want this one in my belly!" The words tore from my throat. "He's almost four months along! In two more months, even if I deliver prematurely, he could survive in an incubator!" My voice cracked with desperation. "Theodore, how could you make that choice? My injuries wouldn't have been immediately fatal without medication. Why did you make this decision for me and our baby?"

Pain flickered across his face, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it through. I was so afraid of losing you that... I'm sorry. Perhaps I'm not a suitable father," he admitted, his shoulders slumping in a way I'd never seen before. 

I couldn't bear another moment in this hospital bed. "I want to be discharged," I whispered, each word costing me effort.

Back at the villa, I paced my locked room like a caged animal. Through the door, Theodore and Mike's voices drifted up from the living room.

"Maybe we should find her a psychologist?" Mike suggested.

Theodore's voice was low but firm: "Let's give her some time. I believe she can overcome this."

"Fine, but the baby in her womb..." Mike hesitated.

"If she wants to have it, then she'll have it," Theodore answered.

Mike worried aloud: "But what if the child isn't healthy? What if there are congenital defects..."

"So what if there are defects?"

I couldn't listen anymore. I pushed open the door and walked out. Both men immediately turned to look at me.

"I want to see Daniel," I said, my voice eerily calm despite the storm raging inside me.

"I'll take you," Theodore reached for me, but I jerked away as if his touch might burn.

Meeting his eyes directly, I delivered my verdict: "Theodore, if our child truly has problems, I won't let him become your burden. I'll raise him myself."

His face went completely still, a sculpture carved from marble. Mike quickly stepped between us. "Sarah, let me take you to see Daniel."

In the car, the silence felt suffocating. I finally spoke, my voice barely audible over the engine. "I heard your conversation in the living room."

"Oh, he didn't say he doesn't want the baby..." Mike fumbled for words.

"I know." I pressed my forehead against the cool window glass, watching raindrops race down the pane like tears. "When I first met Lily, she had no identity, no friends. Theodore built her a fairy tale kingdom, but she was the only one inside it."

My heart constricted painfully as I continued, "He never revealed his relationship with Lily, nor did he want others to know about her. He seems to love her, but I don't see his respect for Lily as a 'person.' If our child has issues and is raised by him, it would be a second Lily."