Chapter 191
William Lowell stood frozen in place.
Those words had pierced his heart like a blade.
Sophia Laurent's taillights disappeared around the corner, leaving only a wisp of exhaust in their wake.
His fists clenched until his nails bit into his palms.
How dare that vegetative man?
He was her real brother.
Twenty years of family ties meant nothing compared to a stranger lying in a hospital bed.
William's chest heaved violently. Black spots danced before his eyes.
He remembered Sophia chasing after him as a child, calling him "big brother" in that sweet voice.
She had been so obedient then.
Sophia's car descended into the underground parking of Valdemar Sanatorium.
She checked her phone after cutting the engine.
A message from Margaret Delaney's doctor: The patient regained consciousness briefly this morning—five minutes.
A faint smile touched Sophia's lips.
The elevator carried her straight to the VIP ward on the top floor.
Patriarch Valdemar looked up from his paperwork at the sound of footsteps.
"Grandfather."
Sophia's voice was bright and clear.
The old man set down his fountain pen, the creases around his eyes softening.
"Perfect timing. The kitchen just finished stewing chicken soup."
Four dishes and a soup waited on the dining table.
Sophia picked up a braised pork rib with her chopsticks. The meat fell apart tenderly at the slightest pressure.
She ate with relish, her cheeks puffing slightly with each bite.
Patriarch Valdemar studied her.
His granddaughter-in-law was more resilient than he'd expected.
"How's work lately?"
Sophia swallowed before answering. "Smooth. The new project launches next week."
She made no mention of the Lowell family.
The old man nodded, his gaze flickering to her flat stomach.
"Alexander woke briefly this morning."
Sophia's chopsticks stilled.
"Did the doctor say he's improving?"
"Yes. His fingers moved."
His tone was measured, but a glimmer of relief shone in his eyes.
Sophia lowered her head over her rice bowl. Her lashes cast shadows across her cheeks.
She pictured the pale man in the hospital bed.
Last time she saw him, his eyelids had fluttered.
Like butterfly wings.
"Margaret was conscious for a while today too."
Patriarch Valdemar's sudden remark made Sophia's head snap up. Her eyes glittered like stars.
"Really? What did she say?"
"She called your name."
Sophia's nose stung.
She ducked her head to sip soup, letting the steam blur her vision.
The meal continued in unusual quiet.
Only the occasional clink of tableware broke the silence.
Sunlight streamed through the window, gilding Sophia's hair.
A golden halo.