Chapter 54 None Who Approach Her Fare Well
Isabella's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might crack her ribs. She hadn't expected Juniper to move that fast—so fast that before she could draw a breath, the damage was already done.
She tried to swing her legs off the bed, but they were dead weight, heavy as lead. Panic gripped her throat. "Nurse... is anyone there? Please, help me!"
She had to see Benjamin. She had to know he was alive.
A nurse appeared in the doorway, startled but composed. "Ms. Tudor, what do you need?"
Isabella beckoned her closer, nearly sliding off the bed in desperation. "Please, find me a wheelchair. I need to get to the operating room."
"Stay still. I'll get one right away." The nurse didn't understand, but the urgency in Isabella's voice left no room for argument.
Moments later, the nurse was easing her into the chair. Isabella gripped the armrests, trying to push herself forward, but her arms had no strength. She tilted her head back, eyes pleading. "Take me there. Please."
The nurse pushed her down the corridor toward the operating room. The moment they arrived, Isabella's stomach clenched—Isla and Juniper were clinging to each other, both crying. William stood nearby, his face like carved stone. When he saw her, he moved quickly, blocking her path.
"You shouldn't be here."
Normally, Isabella would have obeyed. But not now.
"Please... let me stay. Just until my father is out of danger. Then I'll leave. I swear it."
She had never begged William for anything. Not when he hurt her. Not when he broke her.
But for Benjamin, she would.
William's brow furrowed, but before he could answer, Isla tore herself from Juniper's arms and came at Isabella, her palm cracking across her face without warning.
"You cursed thing! What are you doing here? You brought this on us—you’re the reason we've had one accident after another! This is all your fault!"
The sting on her cheek burned hot, but the pain in her chest was worse as she looked at Isla's tear-streaked face.
She didn't blame her. She only blamed herself for failing to protect them.
"Mom, please... don't worry. Dad will be fine."
"You don't get to call me that!" Isla's voice was raw, breaking into a near-scream. The sound of Isabella using that word made her sick.
Juniper rushed in, catching Isla by the shoulders. "Godmother, please... don't. Isabella's hurting too."
"She? Hurt?" Isla spat the words like poison. "She's cold-blooded. I bet she'd be happier if we were all dead."
Her voice rose, sharp and merciless. "If it weren't for you, Beatrice would still be alive! Why are you even here? You should disappear!"
Every word cut like a blade, and Isabella took them without flinching. If Isla needed to hurt her to find relief, she would endure it.
But she couldn't step forward and hold her like Juniper could. She didn't have that right.
William's boot slammed into the side of the wheelchair, sending it lurching back six feet. If the nurse hadn't caught it in time, Isabella might have gone straight down the stairs.
"Get out. No one here wants to see you."
He had no intention of granting her request. He liked watching her twist in panic, liked seeing the despair hollow her eyes.
"Please," she whispered, tears blurring her vision. "Just a little longer. Ten minutes... five..."
William's face was tight with irritation, but his voice stayed cold. "If you don't leave now, I'll have someone carry you back."
"William, stop. She's worried about Godfather too. Don't push her away like this—it's cruel." Juniper's voice was soft, but her eyes, when they met Isabella's, were all sharp edges and triumph.
Isabella saw it clearly—this was her doing.
Juniper was warning her, staking her claim. She had already stripped Isabella of everything, and still she wanted to hurt the people she loved most.
Only after Juniper spoke did William step aside, letting Isabella stay.
Juniper had made her point: she controlled them all. Not just the Tudors, but William too. If she wanted, she could destroy them without effort.
Isabella's gaze locked on her. Juniper was dangerous. Too dangerous.
She had to find a way to get her parents away from her.
Three hours later, the operating room doors swung open. Juniper hurried forward with Isla on her arm. "Doctor, how is my Godfather?"
"Don't worry. He's out of danger. He'll be moved to recovery soon. You'll need to take good care of him."
Relief swept through the group. Isabella's chest loosened for the first time in hours.
Thank God. Her father was alive.
A nurse wheeled Benjamin out, still unconscious. Isabella moved to go to him, but William blocked her again.
"That's enough. I've been more than generous. Now go back to your room."
"But my father—"
"Do you want me to arrange a transfer right now?"
Her stomach sank. If he moved Benjamin, she'd lose any way of knowing his condition. "I'll go. Right now."
She turned to the nurse. "I'll need your help again."
The nurse didn't understand why this family treated Isabella like she was nothing, yet showered affection on a goddaughter. But she kept her thoughts to herself and pushed Isabella back to her room.
Isabella's mind was still tangled in worry when she saw Thalia waiting inside. She looked different—tired, with dark circles under her eyes.
"Ms. Wesley, is something wrong?"
Thalia forced a smile. "No. I've just been busy. Haven't had time to visit. But... what happened to you? You look worse."
"Maybe I haven't been sleeping well."
Thalia sighed. "Mr. Thomas Spencer has been trying to see you, but he's been tied up with work. Yesterday they sent him abroad for business. He called me several times to make sure I checked on you."
Isabella knew instantly—William's doing. He wouldn't allow anyone to care about her, and he'd go to any length to make sure of it.
It was better this way. She didn't want Thomas dragged into her mess. Someone as gentle as him didn't deserve to be caught in her orbit.
Isla had been right about one thing—she was a curse. Everyone close to her suffered. Her sister. Her father.
If she didn't exist, maybe they'd all be safe.
"Thank you. I'm fine. Please tell him not to worry about me... and not to come again."
Thalia frowned. "You're worried William will make trouble for him?"
Isabella met her tired gaze. "Ms. Wesley, I think you shouldn't visit me either."
"That doesn't make sense. Why would you—"
"Because you always talk too much. Every time you're here, it wears me out. I don't want to see you again."
"What did you just say?" Thalia's voice cracked in disbelief.
"I said you exhaust me. Seeing you makes me feel suffocated. Please... don't come back."
It wasn't true. But she couldn't let anyone who was kind to her become a target. She didn't deserve their care. The pain, the isolation—she had earned all of it.