Meanwhile, a suffocating silence hung inside the hospital ward.
Hugo stood beside the bed, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the floor as he glared at his wife—his gaze sharp enough to pierce flesh.
"When," he asked, voice low and freezing, "were you planning to tell me that Collin has been released?"
Roseline pursed her lips, her fingers twisting in the blanket as she looked away.
Hugo's jaw clenched.
If he hadn't personally confirmed the sudden activity on the account—the money Roseline had secretly saved under Collin's name finally being used—he would never have known her ex-husband was out. Back in their world. Back in their lives.
"Are you going to speak," Hugo snapped, voice rising a notch, "or did they operate on your tongue too?"
Roseline flinched at the sharpness in his tone, her breath hitching. The fear in her eyes did nothing to soften Hugo's expression. He was angry—furious—and beneath that anger was something worse:
Terrified.
