Felicia was missing; her whereabouts were unknown. While others could afford to wait, Felicia could not. Stephan, barely able to stand still, longed to fly to Khogend immediately. Each second felt like an eternity. "Take care of Imogen," he barked, striding from the room.

His command elicited a synchronized, "Yes, Mr. Russell!" from the assembled staff.

Watching him go, Johanna sighed and approached Imogen, intending to comfort her. "Imogen..." she began, but Imogen's face contorted in pain. Her hand flew to her stomach; sweat beaded on her forehead.

"It hurts... so much..." she gasped, doubling over. Her voice was weak, trembling.

"Imogen!" Johanna cried.

"Ms. Russell!" a staff member yelled.

Then, a voice rang out, "Blood! She's bleeding!"

All eyes turned to Imogen's skirt, where a crimson stain spread.

"My baby..." she whispered, before collapsing into unconsciousness.

"Get the car! The hospital!" someone shouted.

The usually serene Russell residence erupted into chaos.

Stephan reached the private airstrip just as he heard the commotion. He stopped, turning back. His jet was ready for departure, its doors open, the flight path clear for Khogend. But it sat empty, awaiting a passenger who would not board.

On the sixth day of Felicia's captivity in Ablil, she stood by the hot spring with her silver needles. Five days of treatment had yielded significant progress, and today's session showed even more.

"Try standing, Mr. Glovers," she suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Maurice's eyes flickered. He exhaled, gripping the wheelchair armrests. After a tense moment, he pushed himself up. He stood. The moment felt electric.

His guards watched in disbelief, cheering as if witnessing a miracle. Maurice's body stiffened; years in the wheelchair had weakened his legs. He hesitated, then attempted a step, but his legs buckled. Felicia swiftly steadied him before he fell. His men helped him back into the wheelchair.

Felicia remained calm, stretching lazily. "No need to rush," she said smoothly. "Tomorrow's session. Afterward, you'll be walking normally."

Maurice's jaw tightened with frustration. The brief taste of standing ignited a yearning he hadn't felt in years. The wheelchair felt more like a prison than ever.

"I'll leave it in your hands, Ms. Fuller," he said, his tone measured but determined.

Felicia waved dismissively. "No big deal." She tossed her kit to a guard, easing her own aches. "After tomorrow, I'm returning to Khogend. No problem, Mr. Glovers?"