Chapter 1091

chapter1091

After emerging from the bathroom, Skylar’s face flushed as she checked the mirror. Joe’s marks were scattered across her skin—intimate souvenirs that, fortunately, were mostly hidden by her clothes. Frustrated yet breathless, she pulled out her phone and sent him a single, biting message: “Beast.”

Almost the moment she hit send, her phone vibrated. It wasn't Joe. It was Aiken Parkinson.

“Mr. Parkinson?” Skylar answered immediately.

“I’ve found Madam Viola,” Aiken said, his voice unusually heavy. “But you need to come and see her for yourself.”

Skylar’s heart leaped. “What? You found her? That’s incredible! Where is she? I’ll head over right now. Wait—I should call Grandma Gloria and Mr. Gardner Senior. They’ve been worried sick; they’ll want to see her too.”

Her voice was thick with excitement. She had a thousand questions for Viola, months of longing bottled up, and so much news to share. She couldn't wait to finally see that familiar, comforting face.

“No,” Aiken interrupted, his tone as steady as a surgeon’s, yet carrying a weight that gave Skylar pause. “You should come by yourself first. I’ll be waiting for you at Oakdale Hospital.”

The suggestion sounded practical, but a seed of unease began to take root in Skylar’s chest. She dressed in a blur, her hands trembling slightly as she grabbed her keys.

During the hour-long drive to Oakdale, Skylar’s mind raced through a gallery of fears. Was Viola ill? Had she checked herself into the hospital in secret to avoid being a burden? Why had she remained in the shadows all this time? The more Skylar analyzed the clinical distance in Aiken’s voice, the more complicated the reality seemed to become.

Oakdale Hospital was a sprawling complex, crowded and chaotic. Yet, as soon as Skylar stepped into the lobby, she spotted Aiken’s tall, unmistakable silhouette standing apart from the throng. She rushed toward him, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps.

“Mr. Parkinson! Where is she? Where is Grandma Viola?” she asked the moment she reached him.

Aiken looked down at her, seeing the frantic hope in her eyes, and felt a sharp twinge of sympathy. He didn't speak immediately.

“Aiken? Why aren't you saying anything?”

Aiken took a deep breath. “Skylar, you need to promise me something. No matter what you are about to see, you must stay calm.”

Skylar’s heart constricted. A wave of foreboding washed over her, cold and absolute, but she fought to push it back. She’s just sick, Skylar told herself. It’s a hospital. There are doctors. No matter what it is, they can treat her.

“Okay, I promise,” Skylar said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. “Don’t worry, I can handle it. Just take me to her.”

“Follow me,” Aiken nodded. The concern in his eyes didn't fade; if anything, it deepened. He knew how much Viola meant to Skylar, and he knew that what lay ahead was a threshold no one is ever truly prepared to cross.

They entered the elevator. Skylar watched as Aiken’s finger bypassed the clinical floors above and pressed the button for the basement.

The descent was short, yet it felt like they were dropping into another world. As the doors slid open, a sharp, sterile chill swept over Skylar. She instinctively pulled her coat tighter, but the cold seemed to come from within.

Her throat began to tighten, the muscles constricting until breathing became a conscious effort. That ominous feeling grew with every step they took down the silent, tiled corridor. She wanted to ask Aiken another question—to demand he tell her the truth right then—but her voice was gone. Her heartbeat slowed, thudding heavily in her ears like a funeral drum.

They reached the end of the hall. The sign above the heavy double doors was stark and final: Morgue.

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