Chapter 41 She Wants to See Her Parents
Isabella's hand froze—they were not here for her.
Of course not. Her mother hated her now. Could not stand the sight of her.
But she still wanted to see her parents. Needed to.
Wherever they were, she just wanted one look.
She yanked the IV needle from the back of her hand, forcing her body to cooperate despite the dizziness, and slipped out into the hall. She followed the direction her parents had gone.
She watched them push open a hospital room door. She crept closer, standing on tiptoe to peer through the glass window.
"Godfather, Godmother, what are you doing here?"
Isla rushed over to steady her, guiding her gently back onto the bed. "We heard you twisted your ankle again. We were worried sick. Had to come see you."
Benjamin's voice was full of concern. "How did it happen? Is it bad?"
Juniper rubbed her injured foot, smiling through the tears in her eyes.
"It is probably because the last injury never fully healed. I felt a twinge going up the stairs and lost my balance. Really, it is nothing. Do not worry."
Isla's voice sharpened. "This is all Isabella's fault for hurting you last time. These kinds of injuries take forever to heal. You need to be more careful."
Juniper squeezed her hand, her voice soft. "Godmother, do not say that about Isabella. She did not mean it. I just lost my footing."
Isla's expression grew darker. "You are too kind. Just like Beatrice. For all we know, she ripped that protective gear off Beatrice in the fire and left her to die."
So that was what Isla believed.
Isabella's eyes drifted to Benjamin. His face was heavy with something she could not read. Did he think the same?
"No!" Juniper defended her. "Isabella can be a little spoiled, but she and Beatrice were so close. She would never hurt her."
Isla pulled her into an embrace. "You are too good-hearted. You do not know how vicious she really is. Do not mention her again. Just hearing her name makes me angry."
Juniper nestled into her arms, obedient. "Okay. I will not. But Godmother, please do not be angry. I just want you and Godfather to be happy."
Benjamin stroked her forehead gently, his face softening with affection.
Tears slid down Isabella's cheeks. These were the parents she loved most in the world. She wanted her father to stroke her head like that. She wanted her mother to let her lean on her shoulder.
"Why do you not go in?"
William's voice cut through the silence behind her, loud enough for everyone inside to hear.
He did that on purpose.
William had gone to her room and found it empty. He had wandered around until he spotted her here, spying through the glass.
Was not she supposed to be dying?
Did not look like it.
Isabella's chest tightened. She turned to leave, but Juniper's voice rang out from inside.
"Isabella, is that you? Come in."
She stood frozen. William pushed the door open and shoved her inside.
Her body was too weak to catch herself. She stumbled and hit the floor hard.
Benjamin moved to help, but Isla's glare stopped him cold.
"William, how could you treat her like that?" Juniper spoke up for her.
William did not even glance her way. He walked straight to Juniper.
"Fell again? You are a grown woman. How are you still this clumsy?"
Juniper raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. She reached up and tapped his shoulder lightly.
"Oh? Are you talking about me? Let me remind you—I am a grown woman, not some little kid you think I am."
William flinched away from her touch instinctively.
Juniper's hand hung in midair. She bit down on her frustration and turned to loop her arm through Isla's.
"Godmother, William is teasing me."
Isla smiled warmly. "Be more careful from now on. I would hate to see you hurt again."
Benjamin stared at Isabella still sitting on the floor, his brow furrowing deeper.
"What are you doing sitting there? Get up." His tone was not kind, but there was a flicker of something underneath—concern, maybe.
Isla shot her a look of pure disgust. "She is always playing the victim."
Juniper stood and walked over to help Isabella to her feet.
"Isabella, do not blame Godmother. She just misses Beatrice so much. She is channeling all that love onto me."
Isabella had never blamed anyone. She only blamed herself.
"Why are you not saying anything? Are you mad at me?"
She did not respond. Did not look at her.
Juniper tilted her head, confused. "You have been wanting to see Godfather and Godmother so badly. Now that they are here, you will not even say hello? Are you angry with them?"
Isla's face turned cold. "Isabella, your temper is getting worse. I slapped you once, and now you cannot even greet us properly?"
Isabella opened her mouth. She felt the sores inside split open, the pain searing. She forced the words out.
"Dad... Mom..."
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, thin and strained, like she was putting on a show.
Isla's expression twisted with disgust. She stepped forward and slapped her across the face.
"If you do not want to talk, do not. I am sick of hearing it."
The wounds in her mouth tore completely open. Blood flooded her tongue. But she could not spit it out—did not want to worry her parents. She swallowed it down.
The metallic taste made her gag. She could not stop the reflex.
Isla recoiled in revulsion. Benjamin looked at her hospital gown, her ghostly pale face, and snapped irritably, "If you are not feeling well, go rest. Stop making a scene here."
Isabella did not leave. Every second she stayed was another second she could see them.
William grabbed her by the collar and threw her out like trash.
He even pulled the curtain over the door's window so she could not see inside anymore.
She could not see them now. Even on tiptoe, she could not see...
She leaned against the wall, listening to the warm laughter inside, her chest aching so badly she could not breathe.
A nurse found her and brought her back to her room, reinserting the IV with an irritated huff. "Your veins are so thin. It took forever to get this in. Do not pull it out again."
Isabella stared at her blankly, as if she had not heard a word.
The nurse sighed, told her to rest, and left.
She lay in the hospital bed for hours. The sky outside turned dark. No one came to see her. Then her phone buzzed with a text from Ambrose.
Ambrose: [Isabella, can we meet?]
Why did he want to see her?
Had not he seen enough last night? Why would he want to see her again?
Ambrose: [I have something I need to tell you. Let me know when you are free.]
She stared at the screen, lost in thought, not noticing someone standing in the doorway.
William walked closer. She still did not notice.
He snatched the phone from her hand and looked at the chat. He let out a short laugh.
"I did not think your little college friend would be this pathetic. He saw you like that—saw what a filthy mess you are—and he still does not find you disgusting. Still wants to see you. What could he possibly want to talk about?"
Isabella looked up at him, stunned. She reached for her phone, but he shoved her back hard.
He had not expected her to fight back. The force sent her crashing to the floor.
She winced, biting back the pain, and looked up just in time to see William delete Ambrose's contact.