After treating Stephan's wounds, Felicia breathed a sigh of relief. Looking up, she saw him watching her with a sharp, probing gaze. She offered a bright smile. "The wounds are cared for. Now I can rest." With that, she fainted.
After a day and night of suffering—the fall into the cold water, the hours of being tossed about—exhaustion overwhelmed her. The moment she collapsed, he caught her, feeling the feverish heat beneath her cold skin. "Take her to the nearest hospital!" he commanded curtly. "Yes, Mr. Russell!"
The nearest hospital was in a small county, and the helicopter landing on its helipad was unprecedented, causing considerable commotion and speculation. "Quick, a patient! Get a stretcher!"
When Felicia awoke, the faint scent of disinfectant filled the air. Opening her eyes, she saw a white ceiling and the drip of IV bags. She was in a hospital. Reflecting on her collapse, she realized Stephan hadn't abandoned her, and the helicopter's swift arrival had ensured she reached the hospital quickly. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep.
Attempting to move, she felt sore and weak. She managed to sit up, preparing to get out of bed. It was a private ward. The full moon visible through the window indicated she'd slept the entire day. She noticed someone had changed her clothes and placed fresh slippers beside the bed. Could Stephan have arranged this?
She slipped on the slippers and stood, but her legs were unsteady, her feet feeling like they were sinking into cotton. She wobbled, her knees buckling. Luckily, strong hands steadied her.
Above her, a cold, displeased voice said, "Who told you to get up?" Despite her fear, her voice, though hoarse and slightly reproachful, held its ground. "I need to use the bathroom."
Stephan was startled. They stared at each other, an awkward silence descending. Finally, he said, "Wait here." He pressed the call button, and a nurse promptly arrived. Hearing Felicia's request, she assisted her to the restroom, carrying the IV bag. He remained by the window, gazing out at the night.
The hospital was quiet; only a parking lot and a few pedestrians were visible. After a while, she returned, feeling somewhat better, and smiled at the nurse as she settled back into bed. "Thank you." "You're welcome." The nurse glanced at the half-empty IV bag before leaving.
Silence returned to the ward. Felicia switched on a small nightlight, then noticed Stephan sitting quietly behind the curtains, unseen until now. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Mr. Russell, how is your wound?" She knew, despite her bandaging, injections would be necessary.
Stephan approached from the window, hands in his pockets. Impeccably dressed in a high-end suit and handmade leather shoes, he showed no sign of injury, his composure unbroken, the dishevelment of the previous night a distant memory.