The Surrogate He Discarded

Kristoff stepped back into the emergency room.

The moment Isobel saw him, she knew from the look on his face that he had already made a decision.

”Isobel, I’m having you transferred to Hope Hospital,” he said. ”I’ve already instructed my assistant to arrange everything. Security here is lax.”

Isobel immediately shook her head.

”No.”

Kristoff stopped.

”My uncle is still here,” she continued. ”And Randy and Yana are here too. I want to see my uncle. I want to make sure he’s all right.”

Kristoff let out a slow breath, already expecting her refusal.

”Fine.”

He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen.

”Your uncle was transferred to a private ward about thirty minutes ago. I’ve already arranged for a caretaker to stay with him.”

Isobel stared at him.

”You did all that already?”

”I told you I’d take care of it.”

There was something in his tone that made it clear he wasn’t asking for permission.

He put his phone away.

”Come. I’ll take you to him.”

An orderly appeared a moment later, pushing a wheelchair into the room.

Kristoff stepped forward and helped Isobel carefully sit down. His movements were surprisingly gentle, especially considering how tense he had been only moments ago.

But as they made their way back toward the waiting area, Isobel’s attention was caught by something that made her heart ache.

Randy and Yana were sitting together. Both children were silently crying.

Their small shoulders trembled as they tried desperately not to make a sound.

Isobel’s heart clenched.

”Why are you two crying?”

The children immediately looked up.

The moment they saw her sitting in the wheelchair, their tears returned with renewed force.

”Auntie...” Yana sobbed as she scrambled to her feet. ”We thought something bad happened to you.”

Randy wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying hard to be brave.

”Yes, Aunt Bel. We were scared.”

Isobel reached out her uninjured arm toward them.

”Come here.”

The two children rushed to her.

Isobel pulled them close, careful not to let them bump her injured arm.

”Don’t be scared,” she whispered. ”I’m fine. See? I’m right here.”

”But you were bleeding,” Yana cried.

”I know.”

”And that man had a knife,” Randy added, his voice trembling.

Isobel’s smile faltered for a moment.

She glanced at Kristoff.

His expression had darkened.

Clearly, he didn’t want the children thinking about the attack any more than necessary.

Isobel turned her attention back to them.

” I’m okay. So no more crying, all right?”

The children nodded reluctantly.

Isobel gently wiped Yana’s tears.

”Come. Let’s go see your grandfather.”

The children moved to either side of her wheelchair.

As the orderly began pushing them toward the ward, Kristoff walked silently beside them.

His eyes lingered on Isobel’s bandaged arm.

He had promised himself that he would protect her.

Yet tonight, someone had wanted him dead—and Isobel was the one who got hurt.

His jaw tightened.

...

”Isobel!”

Kristoff froze.

The hand gripping the metal of the backrest of the wheelchair tightened instantly.

He knew that voice. He knew it far too well.

Slowly, his eyes shifted toward the approaching figure.

Morgan.

Why is he here?

A cold suspicion settled in Kristoff’s chest.

Did Isobel call him?

Before he could ask himself another question, Morgan had already reached them. His eyes immediately fell on Isobel’s bandaged arm, and the concern on his face was unmistakable.

”You’re really injured,” Morgan said, his voice filled with worry. ”You told me earlier that you were only here because of your uncle.”

Isobel gave him an apologetic look.

”When I called you earlier, I wasn’t injured yet.”

Morgan’s expression changed.

His eyes moved from Isobel’s bandaged arm to Kristoff.

Then back to Isobel.

A question silently formed in his eyes.

Was she hurt because of him?

Morgan studied Kristoff for a moment, suspicion creeping into his gaze.

”I’m sorry I’m late, Isobel. I got caught in traffic on my way here.”

”It’s all right,” Isobel assured him. ”Don’t blame yourself.”

Morgan nodded, but his attention remained fixed on Kristoff.

There was something tense in the air now—something Isobel couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Kristoff said nothing.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip on the wheelchair had not loosened.

Morgan finally broke the silence.

”So... it’s true.”

Kristoff’s eyes narrowed.

Morgan glanced toward the emergency room before looking back at him.

”Something happened at your project in the Old Town?”

The words hung heavily between them. Isobel looked from one man to the other.

Kristoff’s gaze sharpened.

”How much do you know?”

Morgan’s expression turned serious.

”The traffic was hell so I checked what caused it. It is all in the net. People are cursing you for being incompetent.”

Morgan’s voice was flat but Kristoff could fell the slight in it. His eyes hardened.

”So it’s worse than I thought.”

Neither man spoke.

For a moment, the corridor seemed unnaturally quiet.

Then Morgan’s gaze dropped once more to Isobel’s bandaged arm.

”And now she’s injured.”

His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it.

”What exactly happened tonight, Kristoff?”

Kristoff’s gaze lingered on Isobel’s bandaged arm.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he slowly exhaled.

The others fell silent as well, instinctively following his lead.

The scene they made in the middle of the hospital corridor was impossible to ignore.

Two tall men stood facing each other, both carrying an imposing presence. Between them sat Isobel in a wheelchair, her injured arm carefully cradled against her body. At her sides stood Randy and Yana, their tear-streaked faces making them look small and vulnerable against the tense adults surrounding them.

Kristoff finally broke the silence.

”I was attacked earlier. In the waiting area.”

His voice was controlled, but the words carried the weight of what had happened.

Morgan’s eyes immediately flicked toward Isobel.

Kristoff continued, his jaw tightening.

”Isobel was hurt because of me.”

”What?”

Morgan’s voice exploded through the corridor.

Several nurses looked up.

A few patients at the far end turned in their seats, their attention drawn by the sudden outburst.

Morgan stared at Isobel in disbelief.

”Isobel was attacked?”

Isobel quickly shook her head.

”Morgan, it wasn’t—”

”You were attacked?” he repeated, this time looking directly at her. ”Someone actually attacked you?”

His gaze locked on her injured arm.

The concern in his eyes quickly turned into anger.

”Who did this to you?”

Kristoff’s expression darkened.

”That’s what I intend to find out.”