Jessica’s eyes seemed to regain a bit of focus. Anthony pressed a hotel key card into her hand.
“It’s right across the street. Less than fifty yards from the entrance. Go get some rest.”
She clutched the card, its sharp edges digging into her palm. After a long moment, she slowly nodded.
As she stood up to leave, Lance shouted, “Jessica Brown!”
She faltered for a second, then continued walking without looking back.
“You’re really something,” he sneered. “Your daughter is lying in the ICU, and you’re off to a hotel to sleep.”
Anthony stepped in front of him, his posture radiating arrogance. “If you’re jealous, my assistant can book a room for you, too.”
Lance’s fists clenched at his sides. He said nothing, but the moment the elevator doors closed behind Jessica, he swung, his fist connecting squarely with Anthony’s face.
The punch was a declaration of war. The two men erupted into a brawl, trading blows in the sterile corridor. Soon, both had fresh bruises.
Lance wiped his bruised cheekbone with his knuckles. “You shouldn’t have come here tonight, Anthony George. So what if you’re Mr. George? You deserve to die for coveting my wife!”
Anthony just smirked. “Your wife? Here she comes now.”
She gently pushed him into a chair and placed the takeout container in his hands. “I got you some food. You have to eat something. I know you’re worried about Amy, but you can’t let yourself fall apart. You eat, I’ll go get the medicine.”
She hurried away before he could protest. Lance set the food aside, untouched. He had no appetite.
At five in the morning, Jessica returned to the hospital. It was the exact moment Amy woke up. The doctor went in to check on her, while Jessica waited anxiously outside, her eyes glued to the room.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged. “Don’t worry,” he told Jessica and Lance. “The child is stable. We’ll be moving her to a regular room shortly. Once she’s settled, come to my office, and I’ll go over her aftercare instructions.”
They both nodded in unison.

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