Chapter 140 140

Chapter 140 140
EVA

I woke up to the warm evening light streaming in through the thick curtains. 

The space beside me was cold, the sheets smooth beside me. I patted down the side where I thought Dante was but found no body. 

Where did he go?

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light filtering through the curtains. My body was heavy, and sore, but the sharp pain had dulled to a deep ache. I pushed myself up slowly, my ribs protesting with every movement.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice came out scratchy, barely above a whisper. 

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but pain shot through my ankle, and I grabbed the nightstand to steady myself. I forgot that my leg was wrapped. The bandages and plaster were beginning to make my leg itch. I took a shaky step, then another, limping toward the door.

The hallway was empty when I got there. Empty and quiet. I held onto the wall, using it for support as I made my way to the stairs. The wood was cold under my bare feet, I didn't remember getting a shoe. I gripped the railing, each step sending a jolt of pain through my leg, and my ribs ached with every breath and movement, of course it would. I was arched over like some creature, and so far I've stopped four times just to catch my breath.

I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate that I can't even move, I hate that work is going to hold now that I can't even sign a paper or laugh without hissing in pain, I hate that to move around I'll need someone to hold me 

I can't even sleep in fucking peace. 

A maid appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes widening when she saw me. "Ma'am! You shouldn't be walking.” She rushed up and took my arm. “Let me help you."

She guided me down the rest of the way, with me leaning on her for support.

"Nico," I said. "Where is he?"

"He's in the kitchen, ma'am."

I let her lead me to a room off the main hall to the kitchen . Nico was standing by the chef and muttering to him, his back to me.

He turned around when the maid cleared her throat. “Ms–”

"Where's Lily?" I asked before he could get another word out. "Is the surgery still happening? Is she okay?"

I was unconscious for a couple days after Honor's Hospital was attacked, I believed it was only normal for the surgery to still go on after the kids were safe. So why haven't I gotten any news? Or call?

Doctor Patel said it was a minor surgery, and wouldn't last more than an hour if it took long. It was two days already, if not three.

Or were they any complications?

He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. "She's upstairs. I'll take you."

Upstairs?

Where upstairs? I just came down from there, if there was surgery going in any of the rooms wouldn't I know? 

He walked past me, and I followed, limping after him, but still with the maid's help. Her arm around mine but she hovered mostly behind me instead of beside me.  

We went back up the stairs, down a hallway I didn't notice before then up another flight of stairs I was shocked to see.

How did that appear?

I didn't know something like this has been here this whole time. A whole other floor? 

But what was I expecting with such a high ceiling? It would be a waste of money and space to build a house with just a ridiculously high ceiling and just two actual floors.

We took a longer hallway after getting to the floor, and halfway I had to pause to catch my breath. You'd think I would die with how hard I was panting.

It was longer than I expected, and the walls lined with doors I didn't recognize at each door I thought we were there. 

We walked a couple more seconds before Nico stopped at one of the doors and pushed it open.

He stepped aside and let me step inside. Once I did, I froze at the sight of it.

A surgery theater? In here?

I've seen pools, indoor pools, rooftop pools, indoor golf course, rooftop golf course, arcade, movie theater, basketball court and everything a house can get, but a surgery theater? 

Why then did he let the doctor perfume surgery on him in the bedroom, painting everywhere red with his blood. 

The walls were white, and the floor sterile clean like a hospital would be or a mental asylum. And there was a bed in the center with machines beeping softly. It looked like if a hospital ward and a surgery theater had a baby. It looked scary enough to be a theater but comfortable. 

I would think this was a hospital if I didn't know we were still in the house. The equipment was the same, the monitors the same, the smell of antiseptic the same. I wondered how long it took them to set this up.

I know not even a soul besides me knew about this room. 

What else was in this house?

A shooting range? I wouldn't be surprised. 

The whole setup was unsettling, the way they'd recreated a hospital room inside a mansion tells just how many near death experiences everyone living here has witnessed.

I glanced at Lily's unconscious body on the bed.

I limped to her side before the maid would stop me, my heart pounding. She was unconscious, her face pale from what I believed was either the sickness or the lack of sunlight in here. 

I glanced at the doctor near us, checking the monitors.

"Is she okay?" I asked. "How is she doing now? Was the surgery successful?”

I glanced around the unfamiliar faces. “Where's Dr. Patel?"

The doctor looked down after jotting down something on his clipboard 
"And you are?”

“Eva Bishop, her mother.”

He nodded. “Your daughter is fine. The surgery went well. And Dr. Patel left after the procedure. Everything was a success."

So the surgery was done today?

"A success?"

"Yes. She'll wake up soon. We'll keep an eye on her, if everyone goes as expected she will be discharged in a day or two."

I exhaled, the relief washing over me. I grabbed the edge of the bed to steady myself and slowly sat beside her. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded and finished his notes. "I'll check on her again in a few hours."

He then left. I took Lily's hand into mine and caressed it softly. Her chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, and her face was peaceful. The machines beeped softly around us, the room plunging into silence once every second.

I reached out and touched her warm and soft hand.

I exhaled and turned to Nico. "Where's Dante?"

"He left with Sage about an hour ago. But he'll be back soon"

I nodded and reached for my phone to call Mira and tell them about the successful surgery but my hand came up empty from wherever I even shoved it into.

Right. My pho was broken, and dead. I forgot. I stared at my empty palm, frustration building in my chest. My head was still foggy from the concession that I can't even keep track of simple things.

I turned to Nico. "Can I borrow your phone for a second? Or better still, call Chloe."

He froze and hesitantly pulled his phone from his pocket. "I–I don't have her number."

I stared at him. "What?"

“We haven't really, exchanged contacts–”

How are you dating someone but don't have their contact? Is that the new freedom trend? 

"How is that possible?" I blinked. "How are you two dating if you don't have each other's numbers?"

He scratched the back of his neck again. "We're not really dating."

I stared at him for a moment.

Right. It was ‘like friends with benefits ‘ according to Chloe.

I shook my head and sighed in exasperation.

He's hopeless, and useless.

I see no difference with me anyway. I can't remember anyone's number to save my life, not even Chloe's, or Mira's, not even the foundation's front desk.

Not even mine.