Everyone slowly got off the plane, but Elizabeth, Mallory, and Agatha were the last to step out. Mallory was busy scrolling through her emails, her mind already drifting toward pending work when she felt a soft tug on her sleeve.
"I'll get us a taxi," Mallory said absentmindedly, dialing the number while leading them out of the airport.
The taxi arrived a few minutes later, and the three of them settled into the back seat, heading toward Adam's house. Mallory continued browsing through her emails, replying to a few urgent ones, when a harsh coughing sound from Elizabeth made her look up.
"Grams?" Mallory frowned, watching her grandmother clutch her chest slightly, her face pale.
Elizabeth waved her off. "I'm fine, darling. Just—" she coughed again, this time more violently, her body slightly jerking forward.
"Drink some water," Mallory quickly said, grabbing a bottle from her bag and handing it to her.
Elizabeth took a few sips, but instead of settling, the coughing turned into deep, guttural wheezes. Her entire body stiffened, and her hands clenched the seat. Before Mallory could react, Elizabeth's eyes rolled back, and her body began to shake uncontrollably.
"Grams?" Mallory's voice cracked in pure panic. "Grams! Agatha, she's—she's having a seizure!"
Agatha instantly reached forward. "Driver, get us to the hospital now!" she ordered, her voice trembling.
"Shit," Mallory gasped, quickly shifting Elizabeth onto her side, cradling her grandmother's head as her body convulsed. "Grams, stay with me. Please stay with me," she whispered, her voice shaking.
Agatha held Elizabeth's legs down to keep her from falling off the seat. The car sped through the streets, but the seconds felt like hours.
Mallory's heart raced painfully. "Breathe, Grams. Just breathe," she pleaded, tears stinging her eyes as she watched Elizabeth's face twist in agony.
By the time they reached the hospital, Mallory's hands were shaking so badly that she struggled to open the car door. Nurses immediately rushed over with a stretcher, and Mallory stumbled behind as they rolled Elizabeth inside.
"She's my grandmother," Mallory said breathlessly to the nurse. "She just had a seizure. Please help her!"
"We'll do our best. Please stay here," the nurse assured, disappearing through the emergency room doors with Elizabeth.
Mallory froze, staring at the doors as panic gnawed at her chest. Her throat felt tight, and her legs wobbled beneath her.
Agatha gently placed a hand on Mallory's shoulder. "She'll be fine," Agatha whispered, though her voice was strained.
Mallory didn't respond. Her entire body felt numb.
An hour later, the doctor finally emerged, his expression calm but serious.
"She had a stroke, which triggered the seizure," he explained. "We've stabilized her for now and administered medication to prevent another episode. However, she needs complete rest and regular monitoring for the next few days."
Mallory swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. "Will she be okay?"
"She will, but she'll need time to recover. Avoid any stress or heavy exertion for now," the doctor replied.
Mallory nodded, unable to speak as the heaviness settled in her chest.
The next day, Elizabeth was discharged, and Mallory helped her settle in at Adam's house. Her grandmother was quieter than usual, and Mallory stayed by her side, refusing to leave her alone for a second. She made sure Elizabeth took her medication, checked her breathing when she slept, and avoided stepping too far from the room.
"Here are your tablets, Grams," Mallory said gently, handing them over.
Elizabeth smiled weakly. "You're fussing too much, dear."
Mallory swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm just making sure you're okay."
Elizabeth's eyes softened. "I am, sweetheart. You should rest too."
But Mallory didn't leave her side. She stayed planted there, watching Elizabeth like a hawk, her heart still racing every time her grandmother winced in pain.
Later that evening, Mallory finally grabbed her phone and opened Stella's contact. She hovered her thumb over the call button, her eyes filling with tears. She needed to tell her sister. Stella deserved to know.
But just as she was about to press it, Elizabeth's hand shot out, snatching the phone from her grip.
"Don't."
Mallory blinked. "What?"
Elizabeth's voice was surprisingly firm despite her weak condition. "Don't call Stella."
"Grams, she needs to know—"
"No." Elizabeth's hand trembled as she gripped the phone tighter. "She just got married, Mallory. She's happy — really happy. Don't ruin that by telling her about this." Her voice cracked. "I'm better now. I'll be fine."
Mallory's throat burned. "But what if something happens again?"
"It won't," Elizabeth said softly. "And if it does… you'll be here. That's enough for me."
Mallory's heart shattered. She didn't want Stella to know because she wanted to protect her happiness. But the weight of it fell heavily on Mallory's shoulders.
"Please," Elizabeth whispered. "Let her be happy, Mallory."
she slowly nodded. "Okay," she rasped.
A few days later, Mallory made a decision without hesitation. She packed her things and moved back into Adam's house, determined to take care of her grandmother.
"You didn't have to do this," Elizabeth said weakly as Mallory adjusted her pillow.
Mallory forced a smile. "I wanted to. You need someone here, and I'm not leaving you alone."
Elizabeth's eyes filled with unspoken gratitude. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Mallory simply kissed her forehead. But deep down, the weight of keeping this from Stella crushed her.
And at night, when her grandmother finally slept, Mallory sat alone — clutching her phone — desperate to call Stella… but she never did.
Meanwhile, Nora shot a cold glare at Milo, her voice laced with venom.
"This wouldn't have happened if you had just pushed her on the road that day," she spat.
Milo's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. "You want her dead. He wants her powers. But do either of you have the slightest clue what she's capable of?" he snapped. "I'm damn sure she knows about us by now."
Nora scoffed, unfazed. "And you think that concerns me?" she smirked, but her eyes briefly flickered with doubt.
Milo caught it. "Unless… it concerns you," he said, his tone shifting dangerously. His gaze narrowed. "Tell me, Nora, are you having second thoughts? Or has my niece somehow managed to stir your pathetic conscience?"
That did it. In a flash, Milo's hand was around Nora's throat, his grip unforgiving.
"No," he growled lowly, his face inches from hers. "I don't have a conscience. And listen to me, you little bitch—" his voice turned lethal, "I'm the one who trained you to be exactly what you are today. I made you ruthless, I made you dangerous. So don't you dare question my intentions."
Nora choked, her nails digging into his wrist as she struggled for air. "T-then why are you hesitating?" she rasped.
Milo's grip tightened for a second longer before he released her, sending her crashing to the ground. She gasped, coughing as she tried to steady herself.
He towered over her, his eyes filled with nothing but rage. "I'm not hesitating. I'm moving forward with the plan."
Nora wiped the blood from her lip, a sinister grin curling her mouth. "Then it's settled," she sneered. "By next week… Stella will die."
Milo's fists clenched, his jaw tightening — but he didn't respond. Just a dark, burning silence hung in the air as he turned away.
And deep down… something about that silence screamed hesitation.