Chapter 46 Crawling Accusations

Chapter 46 Crawling Accusations
I rushed out of the mansion so fast I nearly slipped on the front steps, my breath catching in my throat as the cold air slapped against my still-damp skin. My clothes clung uncomfortably to me, my hair sticking to my neck, and my fingers wouldn’t stop trembling as they kept drifting up to twist the wet strands. Jordan was already outside waiting, his expression tight—too serious, too urgent. When he told me my father had already been taken to the hospital, it felt like the ground tilted under my feet. For a second, everything went blank, like my mind refused to process the words.

He offered to drive. I hesitated—just one heartbeat of doubt—because letting him help felt complicated, messy. But none of that mattered right now. My father mattered. So I nodded, barely, and slid into the car, my pulse hammering so loudly it drowned out everything else.

The drive felt both too fast and painfully slow. I kept pushing my damp hair back, twisting it, tugging at it like if I let go I’d fall apart. I kept replaying Jordan’s words in my head, over and over, until they didn’t even sound like language anymore—just a blur of fear I couldn’t escape.

The moment the hospital came into view, I didn’t wait. I pushed the car door open before Jordan even finished parking and bolted inside. The smell of disinfectant hit me hard, sharp and sterile, and my throat closed around whatever words I was trying to form.

I got to the reception desk and opened my mouth—nothing came out. Just air. Just raw panic. The receptionist lifted her brows at me like she was waiting for me to translate my own fear into something coherent, but I couldn’t. My tongue felt heavy, useless.

Jordan stepped beside me, his voice filling the space where mine should’ve been. I didn’t even fully listen—I just clung to the sound of it, something steady while everything inside me spiraled.

We followed the directions to the ICU, my legs moving faster than my mind. The hallway lights felt too bright, too white, buzzing faintly above us. My heartbeat filled my ears, drowning out footsteps and distant monitors.

When we reached the ICU, the first person I saw was Nina. She was talking to a nurse, her face drawn with worry, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Her presence barely registered as anything more than a shape blocking part of the hallway. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t acknowledge her. I didn’t have the emotional space for whatever she thought she was doing there.

I stepped right past her, my voice finally breaking free—shaky, thin, almost unrecognizable—as I asked about my father, every breath feeling like it might shatter me from the inside.

"He's in a critical condition but we'll do whatever it takes to stabilize him." the nurse said quickly and practically ran towards the ICU before I could say or ask something else.

The nurse’s words landed like a punch to the chest—short, rushed, final. Critical condition. And then she was gone, the ICU doors closing behind her with a soft hiss that somehow felt louder than anything else in the hallway. I didn’t even get to ask how bad, or what exactly happened, or is he conscious, or can I see him. Nothing. Just that.

My vision blurred, tears filling my eyes before I could stop them. My hands were shaking, my damp hair sticking to my neck and face. For a moment, I forgot Jordan was even standing there—forgot the world outside that door existed at all.

Then Nina’s voice cut through everything like a blade dipped in ice.

“Your father collapsed because of a heart attack.”

I stiffened instantly. She didn’t look at me—her arms were crossed, her jaw tight, her voice clipped like she was forcing the words out just to hurt me with them. I slowly turned my eyes to her, unsure of what expression I even wore.

“Why do you think he collapsed in the first place?” she added sharply.

I felt my stomach twist, felt heat creep into my face even though the hallway was cold. I could feel Jordan tense beside me like he already sensed where this was going.

Nina finally turned to face me, her scowl firm, the kind that made me feel ten years old and caught doing something terrible.

“And where were you,” she asked, voice dripping with accusation, “when he asked desperately for you?”

Her question hit harder than any insult she could have thrown. It lodged itself somewhere deep in my throat, mixing with the lump already forming there. I swallowed, but it didn’t help. My breath came uneven, shaky, like it wanted to collapse in on itself.

“I…” My voice cracked before the word even fully came out. “I didn’t know he was— I didn’t… I wasn’t told anything.”

Nina scoffed. “Of course you weren’t. You were too busy running off to God knows where again.”

“That’s not fair,” I whispered, though it barely came out loud enough for anyone to hear. My fingertips pressed against my palms, nails digging into my skin. I felt cornered again, just like earlier—like every wrong decision I’d ever made was suddenly on display.

Jordan stepped forward slightly, but I stayed him with a small shake of my head. I didn’t want him fighting this battle for me despite how acquainted he was to Nina. I didn’t want to give Nina more ammunition.

“I would have come,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “I would have come immediately if I knew.”

Nina’s eyes flicked over me—my still-damp hair, the hastily thrown-on clothes, the flushed face—and something in her expression sharpened.

“But you didn’t. And now he’s lying in there fighting for his life, because whatever has been going on with you recently has pushed him to the edge.”

Her words were harsh, cold, unforgiving. And they landed exactly where she wanted—right in the softest, most vulnerable part of me.

My breath hitched. For a moment, I didn’t even know if I’d cry or collapse or scream. I just stared at the ICU doors, wishing desperately that they’d open, that someone would come out and tell me he was okay, that I wasn’t too late, that I hadn’t failed him the way Nina was implying.

But the hallway stayed quiet.

And all I could do was stand there, trembling, trying to hold myself together while everything inside me threatened to break.