Chapter 125 Chapter 125

Chapter 125 Chapter 125
Chapter 125

The hospital room was quiet in the way only hospitals ever were, filled with the low hum of machines and the distant sounds of footsteps in the hallway. Lora lay in the bed, her head wrapped in white bandages, bruises dark against her pale skin. The injuries on the outside were bad, but they were nothing compared to what was breaking her apart inside.

She stared at the ceiling, tears sliding endlessly into her hair. They had not stopped since she woke up. Not since memory returned. Not since she realized what had happened.

Sienna was gone.

Taken while Lora watched. Taken while Lora failed. Taken while Lora lived.

Noah sat beside the bed, his fingers wrapped gently around her hand. He had not left her side since she woke up. Hours had passed, or maybe it had been longer. Time felt strange now. All he could do was stay, because there was nothing else he could do.

“Lora,” he said softly, for what felt like the tenth time. “You need to eat something. Please.”

She shook her head weakly. The thought of food made her feel sick. How could she eat when Sienna was suffering somewhere because of her?

“It’s my fault,” Lora whispered. The words came automatically now, like a prayer she could not stop repeating. “It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not,” Noah said, just as softly. He had said it so many times that his throat hurt. “Lora, please listen to me. It’s not your fault.”

“I was there,” she said, her voice cracking. “I was right there with her. I should have protected her. I should have done something. Anything.”

“You were attacked,” Noah reminded her gently. “You were knocked down. You hit your head. You were hurt too.”

“But I’m here,” Lora said, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were swollen and red, hollow with grief. “I’m safe. I’m alive. And she’s not. She’s with Isabella. Being hurt. Maybe dying. And it’s because I failed.”

Fresh tears spilled over, soaking into the pillow beneath her head.

Noah tightened his grip on her hand. “You didn’t fail. Armed men came. They had guns. They killed trained guards. What could you have done?”

“Something,” Lora shouted suddenly. The sound startled both of them. “I should have done something. I should have fought harder. Screamed louder. I should have died instead of her.”

“Don’t say that,” Noah said sharply, fear flashing through him. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Why not?” she demanded bitterly. “It’s true. She has Landon. She has a baby. She has everything to live for. What do I have?”

“You have me,” Noah said quietly.

The words hung in the air between them.

Lora looked away. She could not face him. Could not accept love when her sister was suffering, when everything felt wrong and undeserved.

The door opened softly.

Victoria stepped inside. Her face was drawn, her eyes red, grief etched into every line. She was holding herself together through sheer will. For Lora. For everyone.

She crossed the room and sat on the other side of the bed, taking Lora’s free hand in both of hers.

“Sweetheart,” Victoria said gently. “Noah called me. He said you haven’t been eating. That you’ve just been crying.”

Lora turned toward her, her aunt, her mother in every way that mattered. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Victoria.”

“For what?” Victoria asked, even though she already knew.

“For not protecting Sienna. For letting them take her. For being useless. For being a failure.”

“Stop,” Victoria said firmly. Her voice left no room for argument. “Stop right now. You are not useless. You are not a failure.”

“But I was there,” Lora insisted.

“And you were hurt,” Victoria said, brushing her fingers carefully over the bandage on Lora’s head. “You could have been killed. You almost were.”

“But Sienna…”

“Sienna would never want you blaming yourself,” Victoria said with absolute certainty. “She would want you safe. She would want you strong enough to help bring her home.”

Lora broke completely then, sobbing into Victoria’s shoulder as much as the hospital bed allowed. Victoria held her tightly, rocking her slightly, whispering the same words over and over.

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

They cried together, grief shared, pain divided but still heavy.

When Victoria finally left, promising to return the next day with clothes and food, Noah stayed. Of course he stayed. He always would.

He tried again, changing tactics.

“You know what I heard?” he said lightly.

Lora did not respond. Her eyes were back on the ceiling.

“I heard hospital food is actually good for you,” he continued. “Like eating cardboard builds character or something.”

Nothing.

“And the nurse earlier told me her cat is named Asparagus,” he added. “Not the nurse. The cat. Although that would be funny.”

Still nothing.

“Lora,” Noah said quietly, abandoning humor. “Please. Just look at me.”

She turned her head slowly. Her face looked so small, so lost.

“I can’t smile,” she whispered. “Not when she’s suffering. Not when it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Noah said again.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true,” he replied, leaning closer. “You were a victim too. You did everything you could. You stayed conscious long enough to call Landon. That mattered. That was brave.”

“But she’s still gone.”

“For now,” Noah said, refusing to let hope die. “But we’ll find her. And when we do, she’ll want you whole. She’ll want you here.”

Lora’s lip trembled. “What if we don’t find her in time?”

Noah did not lie. “Then we face that when it comes. But right now, we believe. We survive.”

He tried one last joke. “Also, if you don’t eat, how are you going to hug Sienna when she comes home? She’ll expect a proper hug.”

Something shifted. Just barely. The corner of Lora’s mouth moved. Not a smile, but close.

“There,” Noah said softly. “That’s progress.”

“I don’t deserve to smile,” she murmured.

“Yes, you do,” he said without hesitation. “You deserve to heal. And to forgive yourself.”

Lora closed her eyes, exhaustion finally winning.

Noah stayed, holding her hand through the night, refusing to let go.