He carried a bouquet of white lilies wrapped in glossy paper. The contrast was disturbing: his knuckles swollen, a fresh cut near his thumb, his sleeve half-buttoned, failing to hide a deep scratch on his wrist.
And he was smiling.
“Mrs. Carter… I’m so relieved you’re alright. This has been such a terrible accident.”
Carol didn’t respond.
She didn’t blink.
She didn’t step back.
She just stared at him the way someone looks at a man whose fate has already been decided.
Ethan took a couple of slow steps forward, every movement controlled, like he was performing for an unseen audience.
“Lena fell down the stairs. You know how she gets when she’s upset. I tried to help, but…”
The monitor let out a soft beep. Lena’s breathing quickened. Her one uninjured eye filled with fear.
Carol stepped forward, placing herself firmly between her daughter and him.
“Not another word.”
Ethan tilted his head, still wearing that polished, fake smile.
“I understand you’re anxious, but you shouldn’t disturb her. The doctors said she needs calm.”
Carol’s eyes dropped to the bouquet.
The wrapping was too stiff at the base. Too thick. Not just flowers.
“Put that on the floor,” she said.