Shadows Of A Forgotten Spring

Chapter 95

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But as his breathing slowed, the room coming into sharper focus around him, something shifted inside. Amid all the regret, the despair, a flicker of hope started to grow. He wasn't going to survive to do nothing, just take this chance his only chance- to make right. He might not be able to go back in time and erase any of the scars that he had made for his family and everybody else, but he could at least rebuild and try redemption.

He swallowed hard, and it hurt to make the effort-but he had to. He was prepared to do it, whatever the consequence. however it might hurt him. For the first time in many years, his will hardened into a resolve: he would fight-not for himself, but for the people he had hurt the most.

Although Annie wanted to silence him forever, she made a wrong move that would haunt her all her life. The resolve in Adam Hersel's heart burned deeper than the fear and pain racing through his body. His body lay limp on the bed of the hospital, but his brain was razor-sharp. She had taken away his voice, but she would never be able to take away the truth.

His eyebrows furrowed, and through the haze of pain, weight settled upon his resolution. He was done running from his past, done hiding behind lies and cowardice that once defined him. He had wronged many people, but none more deserving of justice than Mrs. Emma Black and the other grieving parents who deserved to know who was really responsible for the accident.

As his thoughts coalesced into a plan, the door to his hospital room creaked open. First, a nurse stepped inside; then a police officer followed closely. Showing no emotion on his face, the officer regarded him; but the nurse's eyes widened in surprise at the realization he was awake. She flew to his bedside, quick professional motions, asking a string of questions

Adam tried to answer, to say words, but nothing came out. His throat was on fire while he struggled to speak, but only silence met his efforts. The nurse's face tensed, her lips pressed into a thin line. It was what the medical team had feared-he had lost his voice forever. Panic clawed at his chest. His voice might be gone, but it had never been more potent. He turned his head in the direction of the policeman-all pleading intensity, his eyes locking with those of the man. If he couldn't speak, at least he could write-but considering what happened to him in prison, he couldn't count on the police either.

With a trembling hand, Adam gestured that he wanted a pen and paper. The nurse, who was already hesitant, turned to look. at the officer, who curtly nodded. She then quickly handed him a small note and pen, laying them in his grasp with shaking hands.

The pen felt like an iron weight in his hand, and every motion was like a torturing travail; he persisted. The words came laboriously; letters unsteady and unsure but he never backed down.

"I need to talk to Mrs. Emma Black," the nearly spent man had written across in huge letters.

He looked up at the nurse with glassy eyes, resolute, before they started to blur. The edges of the world dulled as exhaustion and pain overtook him. The note fell from his hand onto the bed as his body gave in.

As he succumbed to unconsciousness, Adam's heart held on to one hope. Emma would see his note, Emma Black would come and long-overdue justice would be finally done.

In the silent dimness of the room, the nurse leaned forward and picked up the note, scanning her eyes over the message. She turned to the officer with a somber look in her eyes and handed the note to him.

Annie awoke before the breaking of dawn, the sky still dark outside her window, yet with that first hint of faintest streaks that showed the approach of morning. She had hardly slept that night, as her mind was filled with thoughts of what she would say and do. This was it-her chance to seal her place in Alexander's life, to make a hold on him before things got even more beyond her grasp.

Slipping out of bed; she silently made her way to the restroom, er heart pounded in her chest, not from guilt or regret but from the determination that had driven her actions since she came back five years ago. She reached the restroom and 172

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Chapter 95

placed a trembling hand over her mouth, faking the signs of nausea, making sure the muffled sound travel back to Alexander, who still lay in the bedroom.

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Annie knelt in front of the toilet, her hand shaking slightly as she forced it down her throat. Her body reacted immediately. heaving violently as she purged the contents of her stomach. The sound of her retching echoed loudly in the small space, exactly as she intended. She winced as her stomach clenched again and again, her throat burning from the effort.

She didn't stop until she was sure she had been loud enough for Alexander to hear her. As the final wave of nausea-real this time-subsided, she leaned against the cold bathroom tiles, her chest heaving and tears prickling her eyes.

After catching her breath, she splashed cold water on her face, carefully wiping away any trace of tears and smoothing her expression into one of carefully constructed vulnerability. Annie studied her reflection in the mirror, noting the slight flush to her cheeks and the tired lines beneath her eyes. She smiled faintly-perfect! She looked exactly how an expectant mother suffering from morning sickness might.

Annie came back to the bedroom; her gait was slow and labored, as if nausea had sucked out all the strength from her body. Her hand went onto her tummy, and her other caught the door for support. "Alexander, she called gently, her voice quivering just a bit for effect. Alexander stirred in bed, his face shrouded with sleep. His brow furrowed as he turned toward her.

"I-I don't know what's wrong." Annie managed to say, her voice quivering a little. "I guess it's just morning sickness." She paused, looking at her stomach.

Alexander sat up in the bed with an expression unreadable. He did not swoop in or try soothing words on her. All his silence did was weigh upon her like one thousand bricks. Yet still, Annie forced herself to hold his cold gaze, her eyes sparkling with withheld tears

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