Chapter 272: Suspicion

Chapter 272: Suspicion

"Zola." His voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.

Zola didn't respond. She had locked herself somewhere no one could reach — eyes open, but seeing nothing.

Lily stood up, her legs numb from crouching too long. She looked at the man in front of her, opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but no words felt like enough. Anything she could think of seemed weightless, like dust.

"Gabriel..." Lily's voice came out hoarse too.

Gabriel recognized her. He gave a small nod — just barely, like even that took everything he had.

He walked over to Zola and slowly crouched down. He set the little fan-made socks beside her, then reached out a trembling hand to touch her face.

"Zola." He said her name again.

Zola's eyes finally moved. Her gaze slowly came into focus, settling on the man in front of her. For a moment she seemed not to recognize him — then her lips began to shake uncontrollably.

"Gabriel..." Zola's voice sounded like it had been dug up from somewhere deep underground. "Cordelia... Cordelia, she..."

Gabriel didn't say anything. He opened his arms and pulled her into him.

Zola's fists pressed against his chest. At first she hit him softly, twice. Then harder. Then she was pounding against him, over and over, each blow landing with a dull thud.

"Why didn't you come sooner! Why didn't you come sooner!" Her voice tore open. "If you'd just come a little earlier — if you had — Cordelia wouldn't have—"

Gabriel didn't move away. He held her through every blow, pulled her closer, his chin resting on top of her head. It was the clumsiest, most helpless kind of shelter.

He knew she wasn't really angry at him. She was just in too much pain, and the pain had to go somewhere.

Lily stood to the side, tears sliding silently down her face.

She stepped back to give them space, her back against the cold wall. The chill crept up her spine and settled somewhere near her heart.

Then the operating room doors opened, and everyone froze like they'd been shocked.

Conrad walked out. He wasn't in his regular uniform — he wore a dark blue surgical gown, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, forearms exposed. He still had his gloves on. The latex was marked with dark red stains that stood out sharply under the hallway lights.

Two nurses followed behind him. One pushed a small cart draped in white cloth. The other held a stack of documents.

The air in the hallway seemed to thin all at once.

Zola pulled herself free from Gabriel's arms. She saw the cart — its size, its length, its width. The size of it was small enough to break your heart.

"No—" The sound came from somewhere deep in her throat. She still couldn't make herself believe it.

Gabriel stood up too, but he didn't move. His feet seemed nailed to the floor. His eyes stayed fixed on the cart, on the small shape beneath the white cloth. His lips were moving, but no sound came out.

Conrad pulled off his gloves. His gaze swept the hallway, then stopped on Lily.

He didn't say anything. But that one look was enough. Lily knew that look — she'd seen it before. It lasted only a second, but she caught it. The way his eyes held something he didn't want her to see.

Zola rushed to the cart. Her hands reached for the white cloth, then pulled back the instant her fingers touched it — like whatever was underneath might burn her.

She looked up at Conrad. Her eyes were full of pleading, the kind of look no one in that hallway could turn away from.

"...Please... save her. Save her again. She just got here... please, she can't die. She can't."

"My condolences." Conrad said it flatly. He sounded exhausted.

"Conrad. We meet again." Lily looked at him, and there was an edge in her voice — a clear note of suspicion.

"Lily?" He spoke at an even, unhurried pitch, his tone carrying a tired sort of calm. "You should head home and get some rest too. What your friend needs right now is someone to be with her — not someone chasing questions that don't have answers."

He said "don't have answers" without any inflection at all.

Lily acted like she hadn't heard the second half. She didn't let go — if anything, her grip tightened.

Her knuckles went white. Her nails were nearly digging into the fabric of Conrad's sleeve.

The air around them seemed to go still. The only sound was Zola's muffled sobbing drifting through the hallway — low and broken, like a small animal that had been badly hurt.

"Conrad." Lily's voice dropped until only the two of them could hear it. But every word felt like it was being forced through clenched teeth. "I only have one question. Tell me the truth — did they actually find something wrong with Cordelia's heart from the moment she was born?"

Conrad looked down at the hand gripping his wrist.

He didn't pull away or push her off. He just looked at it for a moment, quietly. Then he raised his eyes and met hers.

"Lily. Watch what you're implying." His tone stayed flat, but something cold had moved into his eyes — like a thin layer of ice over a lake, with deep water underneath that you couldn't see. "I know you're in pain. But you should also understand that a doctor's judgment isn't something you can overturn on a feeling."

As he said this, Gabriel had already moved closer.

"Lily, I can confirm that," Gabriel said, his voice rough, like something was caught in his throat. "As soon as she was born, the hospital ran an initial check. They did find... a heart problem. It happened so fast. Maybe the doctors did everything they could. They really did."

His voice dropped on that last part. His eyes drifted toward the cart nearby. The shape beneath the white cloth was so small it was hard to look at.

Conrad took his wrist back. The movement wasn't rough, but it was final — like drawing a line without making a scene.

"The father just told you himself," Conrad said, his eyes returning to Lily's face. "No one wanted this to happen. Not us either." He didn't stay after that. He turned and walked away.

The hallway went quiet again, broken only by Zola's soft, uneven crying.

Lily stood where she was, her hand still half-raised from where it had gripped Conrad's sleeve. She slowly lowered it and looked at her palm. There was a faint red mark where his cuff button had pressed into her skin.

Zola had gotten to her feet at some point without anyone noticing. She wasn't crying or saying anything. She just stood there holding Cordelia's body.

Her shoulders trembled slightly, but her face was dry. Her eyes were red and raw, like she had used up every last tear in the screaming before.

"Zola..." Lily walked over and put an arm around her shoulders.

Zola didn't respond. She just stood there — like a plant snapped by the wind. Still upright, but completely hollow.

"She was still moving a few days ago." Zola spoke suddenly, her voice so calm it didn't sound like someone who had just lost a child. "When she was inside me, she used to kick me every night..."