— “Dad, wake her up!” Noah sobbed, grabbing Alexander’s sleeve. “Please don’t let her die!”
Alexander didn’t think—he reacted. He scooped Clara into his arms, startled by how light she felt, and rushed the boys into the car before speeding toward the nearest private hospital.
She didn’t open her eyes once.
At the hospital, his last name opened doors—but it didn’t soften the truth.
Forty minutes later, a doctor stepped out, her expression cold and unflinching.
Severe anemia. Dehydration. Extreme exhaustion.
Then came the words that made his stomach drop:
— “She’s been like this for weeks. Possibly months.”
Alexander stared at her.
— “That’s impossible… she lives in my house.”
The doctor didn’t blink.
— “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”
The words landed harder than any accusation.
Weeks?
In his house?
While he signed contracts and gave interviews about “family values”?
For a moment, he wanted to believe it was a mistake.
But then he looked down.
Ethan and Noah clung to him, trembling.
And everything began to unravel.
They told him everything Clara had begged them to keep secret.