When Giselle and Donovan left the hospital, it was already past 9:00 pm. They got into the car, planning to head straight home.
In the back seat, Donovan wore a dark, brooding expression. He remained silent, looking as if lost in thought.
"Hey, what are you thinking about? Are you worried about Dorothea?" she asked.
Donovan shook his head and pulled her into his arms. "I'm worried about you."
Back at the hospital, he had heard the details of the fire at the opera house, and Dorothea had described just how dangerous everything had been. He learned exactly what Giselle had done to save her.
The more he heard, the more his heart pounded with fear. He kept imagining the worst. What if Giselle had suddenly had a seizure, collapsed, and been trampled to death? What if Dorothea had fallen with no one to help her escape?
A day that felt ordinary to him had nearly taken the two women he loved most in the world.
He had suffered too many losses already. His heart, still scarred from past wounds, had never fully healed and couldn't bear another blow.
"From now on, if you face any danger, don't push yourself. Take care of yourself first," he said. "I don't want to see anything happen to you again."
"How is that pushing myself?" Giselle's voice softened with emotion. "In a situation that dangerous, how could I leave your mom behind? She's your mother, and that makes her family to me as well. I would never abandon my own family to die."
Donovan fell silent. He only held her tighter, closed his eyes, and murmured, "It's over. You're safe now."
Giselle nodded. "Yeah, it was just a false alarm."
Later, as Giselle lay in bed, sleep wouldn't come. The day's chaos still weighed on her, but Dorothea's shift in attitude brought her an unexpected sense of relief.
After two days of rest at home, her mind finally began to settle.

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