Chapter 5

Evelyn's POV

After Alexander left again, I stayed up until the early hours of the morning.

I kept pulling the draft out of the drawer and shoving it back in. The edges of the paper were now frayed and wrinkled, mirroring my broken, useless voice.

The shared iCloud log updated three times before dawn.

Allison's status changed from Refusing to cooperate to Requires 1-on-1 counseling, and finally to Completed preliminary vocal test, accompanied by Alexander Sterling.

The final note read: Alexander Sterling suggested postponing the public video apology to ensure Allison Brooks is emotionally stable first.

I stared at those words.

He had waited for me like that once.

But every time Allison had a crisis, he dropped everything to run to her.

I shut down the tablet and pressed the call button for the nurse.

The nurse rushed in, shocked to see me out of bed. "Miss Carter, you can't leave the hospital. Not without Mr. Sterling's permission."

I shook my head, my throat tight. I forced out two words: "Pinecrest... Rehab."

The nurse understood and immediately called Alexander's assistant.

When the assistant arrived, he looked incredibly stressed. "Miss Carter, Mr. Sterling explicitly said you must rest."

I simply handed him the tablet with Allison's updated log.

The assistant looked at the screen, fell silent, and finally sighed. He arranged a car to take me to Pinecrest.

When the car pulled up to the back entrance of the rehab center, the sky was still a dark, dusty gray.

Only a few windows in the building were lit.

The assistant wheeled me down the quiet hallway, stopping right outside the evaluation room.

The door wasn't fully closed.

Through the crack, I heard the therapist's voice. "Miss Brooks, please read the apology script from the screen."

Allison read a few words, then stopped, clutching her head as she sobbed. "I... I can't... My head hurts..."

Alexander stood beside her. His voice was cold at first.

"Keep reading."

Allison looked up at him, tears streaming down her pale face.

"Every time I open my mouth... I see her falling... covered in blood... I'm so scared, Alexander..."

The therapist tried to prompt her again, but Alexander raised his hand. "Give us a moment. Everyone, out."

Soon, only Alexander and Allison were left in the room.

Through the gap in the door, I saw Alexander pick up a printed document from the desk.

My heart shattered. I recognized that paper.

It was my marked-up speech draft. The one he had spent the afternoon editing for me.

The one with all my personal breathing marks and highlighted sentences.

Alexander pulled out a page and set it in front of Allison.

"Follow this rhythm. Read it slowly."

My grip on the wheelchair handles tightened until my fingers went numb.

That page contained the exact sentence I had finally managed to read fluently yesterday.

Allison couldn't do it. She suddenly grabbed Alexander's sleeve, resting her forehead against his arm.

Alexander didn't pull away.

He lowered his voice, his tone incredibly gentle. "Breathe. Just match the pauses."

Allison leaned into him, her shoulders shaking. Alexander held her, comforting her, without calling the doctors back in.

I wanted to push the door open and scream.

But my throat couldn't produce a single sound.

The assistant standing behind me saw the draft in Alexander's hand too. His face went pale, and he looked away.

Inside the room, Allison finally managed to read the sentence smoothly.

Alexander handed her a glass of water.

Allison looked up, her voice sweet and fragile. "If Evelyn finds out I used her speech script, she's going to hate me even more."

Alexander was silent for a long time.

Finally, he said, "Let's just get through the apology process first."

He didn't deny it.

He didn't tell her she shouldn't have touched my script.

He didn't say a word about my feelings.

I let go of the wheelchair handles and gestured to the assistant to wheel me away.

Back in my hospital room, I dumped all the pages of my draft onto the bed.

One page was missing.

The page with the sentence I had finally mastered.

I stacked the remaining pages, put them into a clean manila envelope, and sealed it.

A new notification popped up on the tablet.

Allison Brooks has passed the first stage of her vocal evaluation.

Note: The patient was highly cooperative and emotionally stable during Alexander Sterling's presence. It is recommended that Mr. Sterling remains present for future sessions.

I swiped the notification away and shut down the screen.

The room was dead silent.

The sound of the manila envelope sliding into my bag was incredibly quiet, but to me, it sounded like a door slamming shut forever.