I stepped closer. “Sophie, I’m going to check your arm very gently. Tell me if anything hurts too much, okay?”
“Okay, Doctor.”
Then I turned to Elias. “Sir, please step back so we can examine her.”
Our eyes met.
Six months disappeared in one painful heartbeat. First came recognition. Then shock. Then his gaze dropped to my rounded stomach beneath my loose scrubs, and his face went pale for reasons that had nothing to do with Sophie’s injury.
“Adelaide,” he whispered.
Not doctor. Not a polite title. My name. The name he used to whisper in the dark when I still believed he might one day love me openly.
I looked away first.
“Vitals, neurological checks, and imaging for the left forearm,” I told the nurse. “Keep her talking.”
