Chapter 5 - AWAKENING TO THE NIGHTMARE
The next forty-eight hours were a tense, fragile standoff. Hannah remained in the ICU, recovering under the watchful, heavily armed presence of private security Ethan had posted at her door. She refused to look at him when he came in to check her charts. The silence between them was thick with five years of unsaid grief.
"You need to eat," Ethan said softly on the third evening, setting a tray of warm broth and bread on her overbed table.
"I want to see them," Hannah replied, staring blankly at the wall. "You keep telling me they are okay, but I haven't seen them. I need to know they are real."
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "You are barely stable enough to sit in a wheelchair, Hannah. The risk of infection—"
"I will crawl down the hallway if I have to, Dr. Caldwell," she snapped, turning her fierce, tear-filled eyes on him. It was the first time she had shown the fire he remembered. "They are my children."
"Our children," he corrected, the words heavy and permanent in the quiet room.
Hannah flinched, looking away. "That night in New York... it was a mistake. I was weak. I just wanted to see you one last time from a distance. I didn't know you would recognize me in that mask. I didn't know you would corner me."
"I didn't recognize your face," Ethan admitted gently, stepping closer. "I recognized the way you breathe. The way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. It was never a mistake to me, Hannah."
May you like
He reached out, his knuckles brushing her pale cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch for a microsecond before pulling away.
"I'll get a wheelchair," Ethan said, masking the hurt in his eyes. "I'll take you to them."
