Emilys pov
The following morning felt charged with unease. I was tense, Victor was unusually focused on his breakfast, and the entire staff, including a very quiet Jenkins, moved with unnerving caution.
Dr. Sarah Martinez arrived at exactly 9:00 a.m., a woman in her early forties with sharp, intelligent eyes and an air of quiet competence. She wore professional attire and carried a leather medical bag.
"Mrs. Hawthorne." She shook my hand firmly. "Charles has briefed me on the situation. Where is Mr. Hawthorne now?"
"His study." My heart was hammering so hard I thought she might hear it. "But he doesn't know you're coming. He doesn't know about any of this."
Dr. Martinez's eyebrows rose fractionally. "I see. That's... unusual."
"I know." I wrapped my arms around myself. "But if I'd asked permission, he would have refused. He's spent five years accepting his wheelchair as permanent. He won't want to hope again."
