Chapter 264: Chapter 264
If she knows about Luther and Gina, Alina thought, staring down at her trembling hands, she’ll break completely. She might even faint.
She glanced up again. Lyla was talking softly to her sister, Alina’s mother, adjusting the blanket around her with a tenderness that made Alina’s chest tighten painfully.
Alina’s hands trembled as she held the folder. The words she had rehearsed in her mind scattered like dry leaves in the wind. Her heartbeat pounded so loudly she could barely hear her own thoughts. Still, she couldn’t hold it in any longer; the truth was too heavy to keep inside.
"Aunt..." she said softly, her voice quivering. "I want to tell you something."
Lyla turned toward her, her tired but gentle eyes searching her niece’s face. "What is it, Lina? You look so serious..."
Alina swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet her aunt’s gaze. She reached into her bag, her fingers brushing against the cold edge of the folder. "I... I don’t know how to say this, but please look at this first."
She placed the folder on the bed, her hands trembling as she slid it toward her aunt. Lyla frowned slightly, confused, but slowly opened it. The moment her eyes landed on the photographs, her smile faded.
The sound of paper rustling filled the silence as she flipped through each page—Luther and Gina laughing together at a café, walking out of a hotel, sharing a meal like lovers. Every picture struck her like a knife.
Her hands began to shake.
Alina watched her face grow pale, her lips parting soundlessly. "Aunty..." she whispered.
Lyla’s eyes finally lifted to hers, wide and empty. Her voice came out faintly, trembling like a leaf in the wind. "How... how do you know this?"
"I... I overheard you," Alina confessed, guilt tightening her chest. "You were crying about how you thought Uncle was cheating, and I wanted to be sure, so I asked a friend to help me find out. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aunty, I just—"
But before she could finish, Lyla’s expression changed. Her face lost all color. She pressed a hand to her chest, her breath coming out uneven and shallow.
No... no, please no...
"I had doubts," she whispered in disbelief, her voice breaking. "But I prayed I was wrong. Gina? My Gina?" Her hands clutched the folder tightly, the edges cutting into her palms as she flipped through the photos again. "She was in my home, Alina. I trusted her with everything. She..." Her voice faltered. "How could she?"
Alina’s throat burned. "Aunty, please don’t—don’t strain yourself, it’s okay—"
But Lyla’s breathing grew harsher, her eyes unfocused. "All those nights he said he was working late..." she murmured weakly. "All those times she came to visit... and I said—"
Her sentence broke into a choked sob, and then her body swayed.
"Aunty!" Alina cried, rushing forward just as Lyla collapsed. The folder scattered across the floor, photos fluttering everywhere like dark feathers.
"AUNTY! Someone help!"
Within seconds, nurses rushed in, one of them grabbing the emergency alarm as another checked her pulse. A doctor ran in from the corridor, and they quickly lifted Lyla onto a stretcher, wheeling her toward another wardroom.
Alina followed behind, her eyes wide and full of tears. She stood outside the glass door, her fingers gripping the frame as she watched them work.
She felt cold—her heart sinking deeper with every passing minute.
She had wanted to protect her aunt, to free her from lies. But now, watching her unconscious on the hospital bed, Alina’s lips trembled as guilt filled her chest like ice.
Maybe I should have waited... maybe I shouldn’t have told her at all. For origınal chapters go to 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦·𝘯𝘦𝘵
Finally, after what felt like endless hours, Alina sat outside the ward with her palms pressed together, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. The hallway was quiet except for the distant echo of footsteps and the rhythmic beeping of machines inside. She hadn’t even realized when her tears had dried, only that her throat hurt from holding them back.
Her eyes were fixed on the closed door. Every second that passed felt heavier than the last, stretching into what seemed like forever. She didn’t even know how much time had gone by—ten minutes, an hour, maybe more. All she could do was stare, waiting for someone to come out and tell her it wasn’t as bad as she feared.
Finally, the door opened with a soft click, and the doctor stepped out. His face was calm but carried the kind of softness that made Alina’s stomach twist—the kind people used when they didn’t know how to break bad news gently.
She stood up quickly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Doctor, what happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay."
The doctor sighed quietly, his expression sympathetic. "She’s stable for now," he said carefully. "But her body and mind are under a lot of strain. She hasn’t been resting, and there’s clear emotional pressure affecting her health."
Alina’s lips parted, but no words came.
He continued softly, "She fainted because her stress levels were too high. It’s not just exhaustion—it’s grief, anxiety, and mental fatigue building up together. For now, she needs complete rest and no emotional shocks. Keep her calm. No arguments, no upsetting topics."
Alina nodded weakly, her hands trembling at her sides. "O-okay... thank you, doctor."
He gave her a reassuring smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. "She’s lucky to have you here. Just let her rest for tonight. We’ll keep monitoring her vitals closely."
When he walked away, Alina slowly sank back into the chair, pressing a hand against her forehead. The weight of guilt crushed her chest again—she had meant to help, to protect her aunt from lies, but instead she had pushed her too far.
She looked toward the window of the ward, watching the soft glow of the monitors reflect on the glass. Her aunt lay motionless under the white sheet, and Alina whispered under her breath, her voice breaking, "I’m sorry, Aunty... I just wanted to save you."