Chapter 543

The hospital waiting room felt like purgatory. Hours had crawled by, yet the mysterious driver remained conspicuously absent.

Alexander's gaze slid toward Lucas with silent accusation.

Lucas bristled under the scrutiny. "Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't run her over."

"Check your phone," Alexander countered. "It's Isabella."

The hallway plunged into suffocating silence.

Evelyn's nails bit into her palms as she struggled to maintain composure.

Isabella Morgan - Alexander's childhood friend - had struck Claire.

What possible motive could she have?

Evelyn studied Alexander's reaction like a hawk, knowing his response would determine whether she signed those divorce papers tomorrow.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Alexander's voice carried an edge as sharp as broken glass.

Lucas gave a single, solemn nod.

On the other end of the line, Isabella's breath hitched at Alexander's glacial tone.

The accident had left her paralyzed with shock.

It had been a simple Saturday errand - test driving a luxury sedan at Willow Mall.

Then a pregnant woman materialized in the crosswalk.

Though Isabella held a valid license, years abroad had eroded her driving skills.

Panic made her stomp the accelerator instead of the brake. The sickening thud still echoed in her bones. The salesman beside her had turned sheet-white.

The $800,000 prototype now bore bloodstains. That poor salesman would certainly lose his job.

Isabella had considered fleeing, but the terrified salesman warned that hit-and-run carried prison time. They'd called the authorities, and she'd just finished giving her statement when Alexander called.

"Alexander," she sobbed into the phone, "I'm in terrible trouble. I'm at the 12th precinct."

Alexander massaged his temples. The tremor in Isabella's voice confirmed Lucas's suspicion - she was their hit-and-run driver.

"Text me the address," he clipped. "I'll dispatch someone." The line went dead.

He caught Simon's eye with a nearly imperceptible tilt of his head.

Simon nodded once before striding toward the elevators.

Meanwhile, Evelyn perched on a plastic chair outside OR-3, counting each agonizing second.

Time had become molasses - thick, sluggish, unbearable.

Alexander and Lucas had disappeared into the stairwell for a hushed conference.

Evelyn checked her watch for the twentieth time. A cesarean shouldn't take this long. Dread coiled in her stomach like a venomous snake.

Complications meant danger. Danger meant...

The OR doors burst open. Evelyn sprang to her feet.

Julian emerged, eyes swollen and bloodshot. His ashen complexion sent Evelyn's heart into freefall.

"How's Claire?" she demanded, trying to peer around his broad shoulders.

A nurse quietly sealed the doors behind him.

"Still in surgery," Julian rasped. "She's lost... so much blood. You know how she hates pain..."