Ethan approached the entrance, heart hammering in his chest. The receptionist looked up, offering a polite, neutral smile. “Can I help you?” she asked, pen hovering over a sign-in sheet.
“I… I’m looking for someone,” Ethan said, voice tight. He fumbled for a photo of Lina on his phone, showing it to her. “My wife. Lina Morales. She was here this morning.”
The receptionist’s expression shifted slightly—recognition, curiosity, and a flicker of concern. “Ah… yes,” she said carefully, flipping through a binder. “She visited earlier today. Room 212. But she didn’t stay long. Just… sat with Mr. Thompson for a while.”
Ethan’s chest constricted. Room 212. That name—Thompson—meant nothing to him, yet it sounded intimate, personal. He asked, almost desperately, “Is he okay? Where is she now?”
“She… she left before lunch,” the receptionist admitted. “Said she had an important matter to attend to. I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know more than that.”
Ethan’s pulse spiked. The truth was always just out of reach, but he wouldn’t stop. He pushed past the desk and headed toward the hall, each step echoing with urgency. Somewhere down those corridors, Lina was moving with purpose—and he needed to be there to meet her.
Ethan’s stomach twisted. Her father? She had never mentioned a father. Never a word. His mind scrambled to reconcile the image of the private, composed Lina with this revelation. Questions tumbled over themselves, unanswerable and sharp. Why had she hidden him? Why hadn’t she told him—him, her husband, the father of her newborn?
The receptionist gestured down the hall. “Room 212. He’s expecting her, but… I think he should see you too.” Her tone was cautious, almost protective, as if she sensed the storm behind Ethan’s eyes.
He followed, each step heavy, the weight of fear, confusion, and anger pressing down. The corridor seemed impossibly long, antiseptic walls closing in as he approached the door. A soft, muffled murmur reached him—a lullaby, perhaps, or a whispered conversation.
Ethan’s hand hovered over the doorknob. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Beyond that door lay Lina, their baby, and the truths she had kept locked away. Whatever awaited him, he knew one thing with certainty: he would face it, and he would not leave until he understood.