With that final, unyielding directive, Penny turned on her heel. She and Isabel walked out of the private home office together, the heavy door clicking shut behind them as they left Darius standing alone in the silence of the room.
LINDA
The quiet of the surgical waiting wing was broken by the heavy swing doors clicking open. Linda stood up from her chair, her fingers uncurling from her phone as she watched Owen walk through the threshold. Walking right beside him, holding the strap of her familiar leather handbag, was Aunt Anna.
Linda felt a sudden lump rise in her throat. Decades had passed since Aunt Anna had last set foot on the island, methodically stripped from the family history by an old grudge. Yet, as she moved into the room, her silver hair pulled back into her signature elegant knot, she looked exactly like the formidable academic Linda remembered from her college days.
Michael stepped forward immediately, his face lighting up with a genuine relief that chased away the exhaustion of the long morning. He didn't hesitate, throwing his arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Aunt Anna," Michael murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's been far too long."
"It has, Michael," Anna told him, stepping back and holding his hands tightly as her eyes shone with unshed tears. She looked between the two siblings, her expression turning serious. "Tell me about George. How is he?"
Linda stepped closer, taking a breath to steady her voice.
"The surgeon said the procedure went perfectly," Linda explained, tracing a hand along the back of an adjacent chair. "They performed a thorough irrigation and successfully drained the abscess that had formed around the surgical hardware. The infection is clearing, and his core temperature is finally trending downward. But his body took a massive beating today."
Anna nodded slowly, her jaw clenching slightly.
"Can I see him?" Anna asked, her voice dropping into a quiet register. "I don't want to go into his room. I don't want to cause a disturbance while he's weak. I just need to see for myself that he's truly okay."
"Of course," Linda replied, leading the way down the sterile corridor toward the recovery rooms.
They stopped outside Room 412. Linda gestured toward the wide frosted glass pane that looked into the private room. Through the glass, Uncle George lay propped up in the center of the mechanical bed, his large frame looking unnaturally still beneath the stark white hospital blankets. The steady hum of the automated monitors filled the quiet gap in the hallway.
Linda leaned closer to Anna.
"The doctor said he's going to be completely groggy for the rest of the afternoon while the sedatives metabolize," Lindawhispered, keeping her eyes on her uncle's pale face. "He's out of danger, but he needs complete rest."
Anna remained fixed to the window, her fingers tracing the leather seam of her purse with a restless energy. She stood there for several long moments, completely silent, before she spoke without turning her head. "Have you told him I'm coming to Sweet Blossom Bay?"
Linda caught Michael’s eye across the hallway, a heavy wave of guilt making her stomach twist. She cleared her throat slightly, shifting her weight.
"No. Not yet, Aunt Anna," Linda hedged, running a hand over the fabric of her blouse. "He's been far too sick over the past twenty-four hours with the fever. But Michael and I will tell him everything the second he's recovered enough to have a clear head."
Another heavy pause settled over the group. Anna let out a slow, controlled breath, nodding her head once.
"Good," Anna said, her posture shifting as she turned away from the glass window. She cleared her throat, her sharp eyes locking onto Linda’s face. "Can I take us all for a coffee and a treat at Owen’s café down on Bay View Drive?"
Owen offered a quiet, encouraging nod from behind her. "Sure," Owen said right away, inserting his hands into his denim pockets. "I'm always game to open up the back section for family."
"Yes," Michael agreed, offering a soft smile. "We'd like that, Aunt Anna."
"We'll follow you over," Linda accepted, though she watched her aunt closely.
Something about the rigid set of Anna's shoulders told Linda that this impromptu invitation carried a far deeper purpose than a simple afternoon refreshment. Linda stepped closer as Owen began walking toward the exit.
"But, Aunt Anna," Linda asked, tilting her head curiously. "Don't you want to go get settled into your oceanfront suite at the hotel first and freshen up after your flight?"
"No," Anna told them, her voice dropping into a firm, unyielding cadence that left zero room for negotiation. "We need to talk. All of us who are actively involved in this preservation project need to talk immediately."
A sudden, sharp glint flared in her eyes, and Linda felt her heart give a warning thud against her ribs. This was the exact look Anna gave her during graduate seminars when a research deadline was missed. It meant something serious was unfolding.
Owen stopped near the double doors, pulling his mobile phone from his pocket.
"I'll give Martin Hale a call and ask him to meet us at the café," Owen said, stepping into the alcove to secure the line.
Linda watched Owen's retreating back, her brow furrowing as she turned back to her aunt. "What exactly is going on, Aunt Anna?"
