He came charging in, cradling a pale and blood-streaked Arianne in his arms. A full medical team followed behind—private, top-tier, the same team that had once been on standby for me… before Seraphine died.
“Call the doctor!” he shouted. “Hurry up!”
I stood there, numb, as he paced outside the emergency treatment room, wringing his hands.
Suddenly, he turned on me.
“Why did you push her?!”
I blinked, stunned.
“She’s over a month pregnant! Did you know that and still choose to hurt her?!”
I looked at him, then at Arianne lying inside the room.
Her brows were barely furrowed. She looked more bored than in pain.
But her wails were loud and piercing, echoing off the walls.
She turned her face slightly and shot me a warning glance.
And I—
I smiled.
“Yes,” I said, calmly. “So what if I did?”
Alaric’s expression collapsed.
He stared at me, like he no longer recognized the woman in front of him.
“Do you even know what you’re saying?”
I looked him dead in the eyes.
“I do.”
“Don’t you plan to explain yourself?” Alaric asked coldly.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I replied.
“If you admit it, I’ll charge you with intentional injury.”
I froze, staring at him in disbelief.
He met my gaze without flinching.