Lance Carter rushed through the halls, having flagged down a doctor for directions, until he finally reached Ethan Carter’s hospital room.
Ethan lay motionless on the bed, eyes closed, his usual vigor replaced by a pale, drawn look. Normally, Ethan was larger than life—a guy whose presence filled any room. But right now, he looked like a shadow of himself.
Lance’s anxiety was written all over his face. He turned to the doctor, Mr. Ham, who had been keeping a close eye on Ethan ever since he’d been admitted.
“Dr. Ham, how is Ethan?” Lance asked, his voice tight with worry.
Dr. Ham nodded, recognizing the family resemblance. He’d already been briefed on the situation and made it a point to be there for Lance.
“Mr. Carter’s stable, all things considered. He was in a car accident, so there’s some trauma, and the medication in his system hasn’t helped. That’s why he’s still unconscious. But don’t worry—he just needs a bit of rest. He’ll wake up soon enough.”
Hearing that, Lance let out a breath he’d been holding in, relief flooding his features.
But then something Dr. Ham had said stuck out. “Medication? What kind of medication?”
Dr. Ham hesitated, glancing at Ethan, and lowered his voice. “Someone slipped Mr. Carter a drug—something that messes with your emotions, makes you... lose control.”
“What?!” Lance’s voice shot up in disbelief.
Dr. Ham hurried to reassure him. “Don’t worry. He’s received treatment. Physically, he’s going to be fine. It’s all under control.”
Lance’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched. Whoever did this wasn’t just reckless—they had a motive. And with the car accident on top of the drugging, it was impossible not to suspect a connection.
Normally, Lance was the picture of calm—a college professor known for his cool-headedness and gentle demeanor. But now, he looked every bit as intimidating as his brother, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
Dr. Ham cleared his throat, treading carefully. “Do you have any idea who could’ve done this?”
Lance snapped out of his thoughts. “Thank you, Dr. Ham. I appreciate everything.”
Dr. Ham nodded, not pushing further. “Just doing my job. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
After Dr. Ham left, Lance moved to Ethan’s bedside, taking in his brother’s weakened state. His mind flashed to Olivia Bennett, who was battling her own ordeal in the maternity ward right now. The worry settled in his chest like a stone.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Adelina Lane.
Adelina was pacing the hallway outside the maternity ward, wringing her hands. The phone rang and she answered instantly, not even glancing at the caller ID.
“How’s Ethan? Is he alright?” she blurted out before Lance could say a word.
“He’s going to be okay,” Lance assured her. “Dr. Ham says he just needs to sleep off the trauma and the meds. He should wake up soon.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Adelina’s voice wavered between disbelief and hope.
“I’m sure. How’s Olivia holding up?”
Ethan steadied himself, but his urgency didn’t waver. “Where’s the maternity ward?”
“I’ll take you. But let’s move slow, alright?”
They hurried out of the room as fast as Ethan’s battered body could manage. Lance kept a steadying hand on his brother all the way to the elevators.
When they reached the delivery floor, Adelina was waiting anxiously outside. She turned at the sound of their rushed footsteps and her eyes widened in surprise and relief.
“You’re awake!” she cried, rushing over.
Ethan nodded, already focused on the door to the delivery room. “Mom, how’s Olivia?”
“She’s still inside. It’s been a while, but we haven’t heard anything yet,” Adelina replied, worry evident in her voice.
Not knowing was killing Ethan. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to just barge in.
“I have to see her,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Adelina and Lance exchanged a look. She hesitated. “You can go in, but are you sure you’re up for it? You just got out of a car wreck.”
“I’m fine,” Ethan insisted, his eyes glued to the red “in use” sign above the delivery room. Every instinct screamed at him to be with Olivia, to make sure she was alright.

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