Chapter 72

Hamilton I paced the length of the hospital corridor like a caged beast, my hands shaking as I dragged them through my hair. The image of my child on that floor, bloodied and broken, wouldn’t leave me. Her legs—twisted and mangled beyond recognition. No parent should ever have to see their child like that. I kept telling myself she was alive. That she would pull through. That even if she never walked again, she would still be here with me. I could not lose her—not my Bella. Not my jewel. She had been rushed into the emergency ward hours ago. Each passing minute felt like an eternity gnawing at my chest. I stood there, every sound amplified—the squeak of shoes on the linoleum, the soft beeping of machines, the distant murmur of nurses. My heart hammered so loudly it drowned everything else out. Finally, the door opened. The doctor emerged looking pale, his scrubs stained with sweat. He bowed slightly, but I had no patience for pleasantries. “How is my child?” I barked, my voice a m