Chapter Fourty Eight

Damian.

I paced back and forth at the foot of Hope’s bed while the hotel physician administered the sedative. She was beyond distraught, and the doctor had moved immediately to prevent further upset.

As the doctor stood and backed away from the bed, he looked at me, a grim expression on his face.

Fear tightened in my chest. “Is she all right? Is the baby all right?”

The doctor motioned me across the room and away from where Hope now quietly lay. “Her injuries are not physical. If they were, perhaps I would be of use. Her distress is mental. If it is as you said, and she has regained her memory, it is that which has caused her immeasurable pain.”

I stirred impatiently. “What can be done? She cannot be left as she is. There must be something we can do.” The sight of her pale face and her eyes, so huge with devastation, twisted my gut painfully.

“You should return her to your home, to a place that is more familiar. She needs a doctor, not for her physical well being, but one who can