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Relief washed overwhen Dr. Bennett confirmed that Grandmother wasn't in serious
danger. Her collapse had terrifiedmore than | cared to admit. Beside me, | noticed Olivia's
shoulders slump as tension drained from her body.
The sudden release of pressure made her sway slightly. Without thinking, | reached out to
steady her, my hand hovering near her elbow.
She flinched away as if burned, her emerald eyes flashing with rejection. "Don't touch me."
Before | could respond, she rushed toward the gurney where the medical staff was wheeling
Grandmother from the emergency room. The elderly woman looked frail against the white
sheets, her usually commanding presence diminished by illness.
Olivia reached Grandmother's side, her steps hurried but careful. She gently took the
Matriarch's hand, whispering words | couldn't hear. The tenderness in her gesture made my
chest tighten with an emotion | couldn't name.
Dr. Fletcher approached me, his expression professional. "We're moving her to the private
wing. You should prepare for a potentially lengthy recovery period."
| nodded, watching as they wheeled my grandmother away, Olivia walking alongside, never
letting go of the elderly woman's hand.
For the first tin years, | felt completely powerless.
Grandmother remained unconscious for a day and a night. | divided my tbetween her
bedside and handling urgent pack matters, unable to focus fully on either.
Dr. Bennett conducted regular examinations, his experienced hands carefully checking her
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vital signs. His face revealed nothing as he listened to her heart and checked her reflexes.
"What's your assessment?" | asked, unable to bear the silence any longer.
He straightened, tucking his stethoscope into his pocket. "Her condition is stable, but | cannot
determine when she will awaken."
"But she will recover?" The question cfrom Olivia, who sat on the opposite side of the bed. She hadn't left
Grandmother's side except for brief necessities.
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"The shock to her system was significant," Dr. Bennett explained. "Her body needs tto heal
naturally."
| clenched my jaw, frustration building. "There must be something more we can do."
"Her constitution is strong," he assured us, "but at her age, we must be patient."
Patience had never been my strong suit, especially when it cto matters beyond my
control.
After another hour of silent vigil, | couldn't stand the stillness of the room any longer. "I need to check on some
pack business. Callimmediately if there's any change."
Olivia didn't even look up as | left.
Alone at Imperial Gardens, | retreated to my study. The emptiness of the house pressed in around me, a physical
reminder of all | had lost-or perhaps never truly had.
| sat at my desk and accessed the cloud backup of the residence's surveillance footage. With a few keystrokes, |
extracted all clips related to Lily. My fingers hovered over the keyboard,
suddenly hesitant.
Did | have the right to these memories now, when | had ignored them in life?
Pushing aside my doubts, | clicked on the first file. The screen filled with an image of Olivia, her belly swollen
with pregnancy. She was sitting in the garden, reading aloud to her unborn
child.
My amber eyes grew troubled as | watched. | remembered that time-the period of Olivia's pregnancy with Lily. |
had been physically present but emotionally absent, providing financial support but little else.
There had been misunderstandings between us five years ago. Misunderstandings that had driven a wedge
between us just as we should have been celebrating new life.
| recalled arranging the best hospital, the finest doctors, the most comprehensive postnatal care for Olivia. | had
been the first to hold Lily after her birth, cradling her tiny form with awe.
But my involvement had ended there. Preoccupied with pack business and... other matters, | rarely returned to
Imperial Gardens. | had been largely absent from Lily's life from the
beginning.
A mix of emotions churned withinas I clicked on another video, this one from when Olivia returned to
Imperial Gardens after her post-birth recovery period. The timestamp showed it
was five years ago.
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| watched as Olivia paced the nursery, dark circles under her eyes as she soothed
a colicky two-month-old Lily. Night after night, she went without sleep, tending to
our daughter's needs with unwavering devotion.
A memory surfaced-1 had returned to Imperial Gardens once during that period after a business dinner. Olivia
had greetedwith joy, her tired eyes lighting up at my arrival.
But my focus had been elsewhere. | had swept her into my arms without even glancing at the baby, instructing
Martha Wilson to take care of Lily. My message had been clear: Olivia was mine for the night.
| had carried her into the master bedroom, locking the door and pulling her onto the bed with
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barely contained desire.
The surveillance footage didn't show what happened behind closed doors, but my memory filled in the blanks. |
had been rough, demanding, releasing weeks of pent-up frustration on her willing body.
Midway through, | vaguely recalled a knocking at the door. The details were hazy now, lost in the fog of tand
selective memory.
Olivia, initially compliant despite my rough handling, had tried to pull away when Martha
knocked. Caught in the moment, | had refused to let her go.
"Ethan, please," she had begged. "It must be Lily crying. Martha can't soothe her. Letcheck
on her-I'll cright back."
But | had been deaf to her pleas, unable to comprehend why Martha couldn't handle a simple situation with a
baby. | had silenced her protests with demanding kisses, lost in my own
desires.
Only late into the night had | finally released her, satisfied and exhausted. Now, watching the
footage from the hallway camera, | saw what happened after | fell asleep.
Lily stood at the master bedroom door, her tiny face red and swollen from crying, her voice
hoarse from distress. Martha looked apologetic as she held the inconsolable infant.
After | left the next morning, the cameras captured Olivia-exhausted and moving gingerly- going to comfort our
daughter, singing softly until Lily finally calmed.
| had always attributed Lily's affection forto our blood connection, assuming it was natural for a child to love
her father. But the surveillance footage revealed a different truth.
| watched in growing disbelief as Olivia shaped Lily's perception of me. From the tLily was
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three months old and started recognizing faces, Olivia would hold her in my
absence, showing
her my picture.