Chapter 2: The Past Beneath the White Coat
Chapter 2: The Past Beneath the White Coat
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
The noise of the ER blurred into a distant hum.
Adeline’s hand froze mid-air.
Ethan’s grip on his daughter tightened instinctively, as if letting go would collapse reality itself.
Her lips parted slightly.
“Ethan…?”
His throat went dry.
That voice.
Same.
But older now.
Heavier.
Carrying years neither of them had spoken about.
Mia whimpered softly, pulling them back into the present.
A nurse snapped into action. “Doctor, we need pressure on the wound—now.”
Adeline blinked once, professionalism returning like armor sliding back into place.
“Trauma bay two. Prep O-negative. Call pediatric surgery.”
Her voice was steady again.
But her eyes weren’t.
They kept flickering back to Ethan.
Like she couldn’t decide if he was real.
As they rushed Mia away, Ethan followed instinctively.
But a nurse stopped him. “Sir, you need to wait outside.”
“No—she’s my daughter—”
Adeline raised a hand slightly.
“Let him through.”
The nurse hesitated.
Then stepped aside.
Ethan entered the trauma bay, heart pounding.
Adeline stood beside the table now, gloves on, mask half-raised.
Focused.
In control.
But when their eyes met again, the past broke through the present like glass under pressure.
“You’re supposed to be gone,” Ethan whispered.
May you like
Adeline swallowed hard.
“I thought you were too.”
