He stood there holding a container of homemade soup. Despite the exhaustion etching his features, his usual sharp, composed aura remained intact. He frowned the moment she spoke.

"What do you mean, no family? Isn’t that what I’m here for?"

"Maya, you were the one who went too far with Alexandria first. Your parents and I were just furious. The incident is over—can't we just leave it in the past? Stop being so stubborn."

He paused, his voice softening. "I’ve cleared my schedule of all the major company business just to stay here and look after you. The recovery period after a miscarriage is critical. If you don't heal properly, you’ll be left with chronic health issues. I have to make sure you're taken care of."

Maya looked at him—at his eyes, deliberately softened—and listened to the concern in his voice. Yet, inside, she felt only a desolate calm. Not a single ripple stirred in her heart.

She was about to tell him there was no need, but her phone chimed on the bedside table. A video call from Martha Cole.

Maya swiped to answer.

The faces of her parents and Alexandria appeared on the screen, the backdrop a sun-drenched beach in the Hamptons.

Martha’s voice held a trace of guilt, but mostly, it was filled with a sense of entitlement. "Maya, you're awake? Listen... Alexandria was so shaken up by everything that she’s been in a bad mood, so we brought her to the coast to clear her head. We probably won’t be able to come to the hospital. You know how it is—what happened last time... you really did cross the line. Just think of this as a way to make it up to Alexandria, okay? Try not to take it to heart."

Maya watched Alexandria, who was snuggled between her parents with a look of smug satisfaction. A hollow ache bloomed in her chest—so profound that she couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

"Mhm."

That was her only reply.

Martha seemed caught off guard by her calm, hesitating for a moment. She seemed like she wanted to say more, but eventually just muttered, "Is... is Callahan there with you? Put him on the line."

Maya handed the phone directly to Callahan.

He took it and walked over to the window. Maya couldn't hear the specifics, but bits and pieces drifted over: "Alexandria hopes you'll come too..." "She's still not emotionally stable..." "She wants to see you..."

She saw a flicker of hesitation on his face, but deep in his eyes, there was an unmistakable gleam of worry and yearning.

Maya’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.

When Callahan finished the call and walked back to the bedside, his expression was complicated, as if he were struggling to find the right words. She spoke first, her voice devoid of any emotion.

"You should go keep Alexandria company. I can hire a private nurse here."

Callahan froze, as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "...What?"

"I said, you should go to the Hamptons and help Alexandria relax," Maya repeated, her tone indifferent. "I don't need you here."

Callahan’s face darkened.

A strange, intense surge of frustration and unease gripped him. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching tightly. He looked at Maya’s pale, tranquil face—a face that once would have clouded with sadness if he so much as glanced at Alexandria, a face that used to show hurt at his every concern for her.

But now, she was actually pushing him toward Alexandria.

"Maya," his voice dropped, turning cold. "What is wrong with you lately? Why are you always pushing me away?"

Maya didn't answer. She only asked again, "So, are you going?"

Callahan stood still. He pressed his lips into a thin line, silent for several seconds before finally saying, stiffly, "Alexandria isn't doing well, and she was terrified by everything. I... I really should go and check on her. Consider it... a way to make amends for you."

"Oh." Maya nodded. "Then make sure you make it up to her well."

"You!" Callahan’s temper flared at her flippant tone. He felt as though there was a hidden jab in her words, some kind of biting sarcasm.

A nameless fire burned in his chest; the feeling of losing control and the mounting unease reached a breaking point. But in the end, he didn't say another word. He simply turned and strode out of the hospital suite.

For the following week, Maya remained in the hospital, quietly healing.

Meanwhile, Alexandria’s messages and photos arrived like a blizzard.

Sometimes it was a photo of her parents with their arms around her, their smiles radiant against the beach backdrop. Other times, it was a shot of Callahan holding an umbrella for her on the sand, his profile gentle and attentive. There were photos of Alexandria in a new swimsuit, showing off her slender figure, with Callahan’s blurred but elegant silhouette in the background.

The captions were always the same mix of boasting and provocation:

[Sister, look. Mom and Dad still love me the most.]

[Callahan said the sunset here is beautiful. It’s a shame you can’t see it.]

[I gave you five years, but you still didn't have the capability to keep anyone's heart. Since you’re so useless, I’ll just take back everything that belongs to you.]

Maya looked at the carefully angled photos and the malicious text with a gaze as calm as if she were scrolling through the social media feed of a complete stranger.

Finally, she opened the chat with Alexandria and replied with only one word:

[Mhm.]

Then, she closed the app, muted the notifications, and let the messages pour in. She didn't bother to open or look at another one.