Chapter 2

Zach’s job kept him busy, and he never let me visit him at the hospital.

Even when I occasionally offered to pick him up after work, he insisted I wait for him in the parking lot.

If Zach had really been involved with my sister, I figured someone at his workplace must have seen her.

Today, I had the perfect excuse to find out. With school on break, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I prepared a homemade lunch, packed it neatly, and made my way to Zach’s office, asking for directions as I went.

The moment Zach saw me standing at his door, he froze.

Then, with a practiced smile, he grabbed my hand and quickly ushered me toward the stairwell.

“Claire, what are you doing here?”

I lifted the lunchbox, the explanation obvious.

“Claire, the hospital has a cafeteria. You didn’t need to bring me lunch,” he said, his voice calm but his grip on my hand tightening.

“Cafeteria food isn’t as good as mine,” I replied with a sweet smile. “I was worried you weren’t eating well. Besides, I had the day off.”

Zach accepted the lunchbox, his expression softening with a grin.

“You’re so thoughtful, Claire. But I’ve got a surgery coming up soon—I don’t have time to sit with you. Maybe you should go home or do some shopping until I’m done.”

He sounded kind, but I could tell he was trying to get rid of me.

When he’d opened the door to his office earlier, one of his colleagues had glanced at me with obvious surprise. I’d caught the look, even if Zach pretended not to notice.

“Zach, do you not like it when I visit you?” I asked, tilting my head.

He reached up to gently pat my hair, his tone soft and reassuring.

“Of course not, but a hospital isn’t exactly a relaxing place to visit, and I’m so busy I wouldn’t be able to give you any attention. Be good, okay? Go home, and I’ll see you after work.”

His words were sweet, but his actions betrayed him. He guided me firmly toward the stairs, practically pushing me down.

When I glanced back at him, he was still smiling, even waving goodbye as if nothing was wrong.

I stopped at the corner of the next floor, waiting until I heard his footsteps fade into the distance. Then, retracing my steps, I returned to his department and leaned against the wall near his office.

The colleague who’d looked surprised earlier caught my attention—his name tag read Dr. Noah Hale.

Of all the people I’d seen here, he was the only one who seemed to know something.

I spent the next hour walking around the hospital, paying close attention to everyone I passed. But no one else reacted to me the way Dr. Hale had.

Back in my car, I pulled out my phone and searched his name along with the hospital’s directory. His profile showed his consultation schedule: next Friday morning, he had clinic hours.

As for Zach, he wouldn’t be seeing patients that day, which meant he’d likely be in the inpatient ward. If I timed it right, I could speak to Dr. Hale without Zach knowing.

In my previous life, I hadn’t known much about Zach’s friends. I knew he played online games with a group of college buddies, but he never introduced me to anyone local.

When I asked him about it, he’d always shrugged and said, “Doctors are busy people. No one has time for meetups. I don’t either—don’t I always come straight home after work?”

At the time, his words had reassured me. I’d thought Zach was a homebody, someone who valued his time with me.

But now, I wasn’t so sure.

If Dr. Hale had met my sister, it meant he and Zach were closer than Zach had ever let on.

I couldn’t approach him recklessly. He was Zach’s colleague and possibly his friend. If I made the wrong move, he might tell Zach everything, which would tip him off and ruin my plan.

On Friday morning, I left the house with Zach as usual. He dropped me off at the school gates, unaware that I’d already arranged for the day off. Once his car was out of sight, I slipped away and headed straight for the hospital.

After registering at the reception desk, I waited in line outside Dr. Hale’s clinic.

Through the open door, I caught a glimpse of him.

Unlike Zach, who radiated warmth with his sunny smile and charming dimples, Dr. Hale had a colder, more serious demeanor. He seemed sharp, calculating.

Given their similar ages and the fact that they worked in the same department, it wasn’t hard to imagine they were on good terms.

“Next,” a nurse called.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

The sound of the latch clicking made Dr. Hale pause. He looked up from the file he’d been writing in, his expression briefly puzzled.

Then, with a subtle lift of his brow, he studied me.