Chapter 52 I'm Coming, Liv
Jessica stared at me in disbelief, momentarily speechless before finding her voice again. "What do you mean? Of course it matters! We're family, Olivia. What's yours is ours. That's how families work!"
I had no energy to argue. I simply pushed past her to the guest room where my grandparents stayed, quickly changed my clothes, and headed for the door without even bothering to wash my face.
Martha followed me to the front door, concern etched in the wrinkles of her weathered face. "How long will you be gone, dear?"
I looked back at my grandmother and managed a small smile. "I don't know yet, Grandma. Don't worry about me. I'll take care of myself."
The morning wind bit at my cheeks as I walked away from the house, dragging my designer luggage behind me. I made my way back to downtown Pacifica and checked into a modest hotel. Thankfully, Ethan had given me enough money to last the entire holiday if I needed it.
The Pacific View Motor Inn was clean but basic—nothing like the luxury I'd grown accustomed to at Ethan's Oakwood Estate. The bed had a faded floral comforter, and the bathroom featured harsh fluorescent lighting that highlighted my already sickly appearance.
I collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion washing over me despite it being only early afternoon. My head pounded from the stress of confronting my family, and my throat felt scratchy. I drifted off to sleep, hoping I was just tired and not coming down with something.
I woke in the middle of the night, my body alternating between burning hot and icy cold. The headache had intensified to a relentless throb, and swallowing felt like dragging razor blades down my throat. Shivering, I fumbled for my phone in the darkness, squinting at the too-bright screen.
"Daisy..." I typed with trembling fingers, "I'm sick. Could you bring me some medicine? I'm at Pacific View Motor Inn, room 118."
I sent the message and dropped the phone beside me on the mattress, too weak to hold it any longer. My feverish mind drifted between consciousness and vivid dreams where I was running through endless corridors of Ethan's mansion, each door opening to reveal my family with outstretched hands.
Dawn was breaking when urgent knocking at my door jolted me awake. I struggled to sit up, my entire body aching and head spinning.
"Who's there?" I called out, my voice raspy and weak.
The knocking continued without response. After a moment, I heard a key in the lock, and the door swung open. The hotel manager entered, followed by a woman in a professional outfit.
Fear shot through me as I scrambled to sit up, pulling the blankets around me defensively. "You—who are you? Why are you in my room?" I demanded, panic rising in my throat.
The woman approached cautiously. "I'm Dr. Morgan from Pacifica Memorial Hospital," she said, extending a business card toward me.
My fevered mind raced with paranoia. Was this some kind of scam? Were they targeting young women staying alone? How did they get a key to my room so easily?
"Don't come any closer!" I warned, grabbing my phone with trembling hands. I unlocked the screen and frantically scrolled through my contacts.
As the situation escalated, another figure appeared in the doorway—a tall man in a dark suit who quickly stepped inside.
"Ms. Reed, please don't be alarmed," he said urgently. "I'm Victor. Mr. Bennett called me about your condition and asked me to bring Dr. Morgan to examine you."
Before I could respond, my call connected, and Ethan's deep voice came through the speaker.
"Liv, don't cry," he said softly, though I hadn't realized tears were streaming down my fever-flushed face. "I'm about to board the plane. I'll be with you in two hours."
"You're coming to Pacifica?" I asked, confusion mixing with my fever.
"You're sick. I'm worried," he replied, his voice tense with concern. "How did you end up at a motel?"
I glanced at my phone screen and realized with a jolt that I had sent my desperate text to Ethan instead of Daisy. "I sent you that message by mistake," I admitted weakly.
"Let Dr. Morgan examine you," Ethan said firmly. "She's legitimate—I've used her services before. Take whatever medication she prescribes and try to sleep. I'll be there when you wake up."
After hanging up, I reluctantly allowed Dr. Morgan to examine me. My temperature was 102.3, and my throat was severely inflamed. She recommended going to the hospital for tests, but I insisted on waiting for Ethan.
"At minimum, you need to take these antibiotics and fever reducers," she said firmly, placing several pill bottles on the nightstand. "I'll leave instructions with Victor. Mr. Bennett should be here soon."
After they left, I took the medication and curled up under the blankets again. The room was quiet except for the hum of the ancient air conditioner.
My heart raced with a confusing mix of emotions. Part of me felt excited knowing Ethan was rushing to my side—a powerful man dropping everything just because I was sick. Another part felt frustrated and defeated. One accidental text and I'd collapsed right back into his orbit, like a satellite unable to escape his gravitational pull.
As the medication began to take effect and sleep pulled at the edges of my consciousness, my phone rang again.