My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 770

After the accident, Emily Blair still hadn’t backed down.

Well, she couldn’t blame him, then.

Benjamin Gomez replied: [Go ahead.]

Emily spent the whole day waiting for Alex White to return.

Ever since she’d cleared the air with Tristan Davis, he’d started dropping by the hospital whenever he had nothing else to do. So while Emily waited, Tristan waited with her.

As he peeled an apple, Tristan said, “You asked about the piano competition results yesterday. I looked them up—Isabella Austin’s name wasn’t in the top three. In fact, she didn’t even show up.”

Emily wasn’t surprised.

With everything going on with Matthew Ross, Isabella probably didn’t have the time or the headspace to compete.

But Emily didn’t really care about that now. All she was focused on was whether Alex White could convince Matthew Ross to finally come clean about everything.

Alex had already left the police station, and just texted to say he was on his way to the hospital. He said things were going well and promised to fill her in when they met.

She’d been waiting so long—not just for Alex to arrive, but for this moment, from her former life to now. What she wanted was finally within reach.

If Isabella’s actions could be brought to light, Emily would probably wake from her dreams laughing.

She was impatient, so distracted she couldn’t even get into her favorite reality show.

Tristan glanced at her, then chuckled and handed her the apple he’d just sliced. “Eat something. The police station’s a ways from here—it’ll be at least half an hour. Don’t expect him too soon.”

As he spoke, Emily looked toward the door again.

Tristan actually laughed out loud this time. “Alright, stop staring at the door. Eat your apple and watch TV.”

Listlessly, Emily nibbled at the apple, her thoughts far away.

Was it really about to end?

She could hardly believe it.

The scene before her felt as fragile as a soap bubble—beautiful, but ready to vanish at the slightest touch.

She didn’t even dare breathe too loudly, afraid she’d shatter the peace and sweetness of this moment.

Lost in thought, Emily took another bite of apple and managed a small smile, her eyes shining with hope.

Seeing her smile, Tristan couldn’t help but smile, too.

When she finished the apple, Tristan handed her a wet wipe for her hands, then took it from her and tossed it in the trash. He poured her a cup of warm water, just the right temperature.

Half an hour passed, but Alex still hadn’t arrived.

Tristan noticed the empty kettle and told her he’d go fill it, slipping out of the room with it.

Emily’s eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, her breathing slowing.

She watched the second hand tremble its way around the dial. Her palms were sweaty, lips dry, heart racing with nerves.

Almost there.

Just a few more minutes and Alex would be here.

He’d bring good news.

Tristan came back with fresh water, but five more minutes ticked by—still no sign of Alex.

Emily stared blankly at the television, checking the time again and again.

Forty minutes had passed. Still nothing.

An hour.

She made up her mind and picked up her phone to call Alex.

He tensed—not from her touch, but from how cold her hand was.

He clasped her hand between his own. “Why are your hands so cold? Let me warm them up.”

Emily glanced down at their hands and whispered, “Be careful.”

Tristan grinned. “Relax, I can handle more than you think.”

Then he left.

Emily sat alone in the hospital room, eyes unfocused, staring at the television.

Suddenly, someone walked in. Instinctively, Emily looked up.

It was a young man, unfamiliar yet vaguely recognizable.

She frowned. “Who are you?”

He wore plain clothes and offered her a friendly smile. “Ms. Blair, I’m a friend of Tristan’s. He asked me to keep an eye on you while he’s gone.”

Emily nodded and looked away.

“Just call me Jesse,” he said. “I’ll be right outside the door. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Emily answered softly, “Alright.”

Tristan would need some time to search. In the meantime, Emily couldn’t settle—her attention flitted between the TV, the clock, and her phone, unable to focus on anything.

She could feel her anxiety growing, nerves getting tighter by the minute.

A sense of dread crept over her, draining the color from her face and leaving her palms clammy.

She couldn’t sit still any longer. Sitting up in bed, she reached for the wheelchair beside her. She missed, nearly losing her balance and falling.

She gasped. Jesse, waiting outside, heard her and hurried in.