Chapter 6
The next few days settled into something that looked almost normal.
I spent most of them at the hospital with Noah.
He was in a shared room, pale and tiny against the white sheets, always looking at the ceiling like he was trying to think himself into a different life.
When I visited, the family member of another patient looked at me with mild reproach.
“You’re finally here. This child’s been alone so much. Why doesn’t anyone stay with him?”
I smiled, apologized, and went to Noah’s bedside.
The second he saw me, his whole face lit up.
“Candy!”
I hugged him and nearly cried right there.
I brought him books, clothes, snacks he wasn’t supposed to eat but still liked looking at, and a promise that he’d be okay.
Kids like Noah always broke my heart a little.
Too young. Too sensible. Too practiced at not asking for much.
His doctor, a young cardiologist named Dr. Ryan Lin, asked to speak with me privately.
He explained the same thing the emergency doctor had already told us weeks ago.
Noah looked stable only because he was being strictly limited. If he wanted a real life, he needed surgery. He needed a pacemaker.
I told him I had the money now.
That we were ready.
Dr. Lin’s cool, professional expression shifted for the first time. Relief, maybe.
He gave me his card and said they would schedule surgery as soon as possible.
Afterward, I paid Noah’s hospital fees and hired a caregiver to stay with him when the orphanage director couldn’t.
Noah hated that too.
“Don’t waste money on me,” he said seriously. “You work hard already.”
That almost destroyed me.
Children his age should whine. Should demand toys. Should expect to be cared for.
He just worried about being expensive.
That night, when I left the hospital, I finally broke down outside.
I crouched in an empty corner near the entrance and cried so hard my shoulders shook.
Maybe I was crying for Noah.
Maybe for the child I used to be.
Maybe for Serena.
Maybe for all of it at once.
When I finally looked up, a handkerchief appeared in front of my face.
I blinked.
Then followed the hand upward and saw Dr. Lin standing there.
No white coat this time. No mask. Just dark eyes and a quiet expression.
“I only have a handkerchief,” he said. “No tissues.”
Despite myself, I laughed once through my tears.
“Thank you.”
He asked if the problem was money.
I shook my head.
“No. I just… had a lot hit me at once.”
He nodded as if that answer made perfect sense.
“I can drive you home,” he offered.
I almost said yes.
Then a dark luxury car slid to a stop near the curb, and Adrian got out.
My stomach dropped.
“Candy,” he said, striding toward me. “Are you all right?”
How had he found me here?
And more importantly—why was he saying my name like he had any right to worry?
I stepped back automatically.
“Mr. Hale,” I said politely. “What a coincidence.”
His expression flickered with pain at my formal tone.
“It’s not a coincidence. I came to see you.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer that directly.
Instead he stared at me, searching my face.
“Do you remember anyone else named Adrian Hale?”
I just looked at him.
“Besides you? No.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie.
In the book world, Adrian had worn a different face.
He went very still.
I could see the frustration building in him, but before he could say more, I caught Dr. Lin starting to walk away and moved instantly.
“Doctor, didn’t you say you were going to drive me?”
His eyes widened just slightly.
He clearly hadn’t expected to get dragged into this.
But after one glance at Adrian, he simply nodded.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Adrian reached for my arm.
“Candy—”
I pulled away.
“Mr. Hale,” I said, keeping my voice cool, “we’ve only met twice. You really shouldn’t use nicknames.”
Then I got into Dr. Lin’s car and left Adrian standing at the hospital entrance looking like I had slapped him.
Through the rearview mirror, I watched him remain there, motionless, long after we pulled away.
I didn’t feel sorry for him.
Not really.
If he had crossed worlds to find me, then he already knew the truth.
He knew I wasn’t the original girl.
He knew the one who loved him had died inside that story.
So what exactly did he want from me?
A replacement? Forgiveness? A second chance with the wrong woman?
Dr. Lin didn’t ask questions.
At the first safe corner, I told him he could drop me there.
He did.
No pressure. No persistence. No emotional debt.
As I got out, I thought, This is what normal adult boundaries feel like.
It was almost enough to make me laugh.
But the peace didn’t last long.
The next time my phone rang, it was Serena.
And the moment I heard her voice, I knew something had gone wrong.
“Candy,” she snapped, “come to the police station. Ethan lost his mind and beat up Yufei.”
I froze.
“Who?”
“Yufei,” she repeated. “My friend from school. Just get here.”
By the time I reached the station, I had the story.
Yufei had returned from overseas and met Serena for dinner.
Ethan saw them together, snapped, and started a fight.
Serena, furious beyond reason, called the police and sent him straight in.
Yufei was sitting in the apartment later with a split knuckle, bruises across his face, and blood down the front of his white shirt.
And Serena, of course, was scolding him like a furious mother hen while gently holding an egg to his cheek to reduce the swelling.
The scene would have been funny if it weren’t so tense.
Apparently, crossing worlds hadn’t improved Ethan’s temper one bit.
Or Adrian’s.
Because a day later, he turned up at my workplace.
As the company’s new major investor.
I nearly choked when I saw him walking out of my boss’s office.
He looked expensive. Composed. Perfectly at home.
And his eyes went straight to me.
That was the beginning of a whole new kind of headache.