The Ex-Wife's Escape: From Betrayal to Revenge

Chapter 15

The autumn wind swept fallen leaves against the windowpanes, their rustling a faint whisper in the quiet room. Sophia Williams stood by the window of the VIP ward, watching her aunt drift into peaceful sleep before carefully closing the door behind her.

"Uncle, I’ll go order dinner for you and Aunt," she murmured, keeping her voice low.

Her uncle’s gaze lingered on the dark circles under her eyes. "Don’t overwork yourself. Just grab something simple."

Sophia shook her head with a faint smile and stepped out into the hallway. The sharp scent of disinfectant hit her, and she rubbed her temples before pulling out her phone to call Serenity Garden.

"Move! Get out of the way!"

A shrill voice cut through the corridor. Sophia looked up to see a team of doctors in white coats rushing toward her with a gurney. People scrambled aside, and she instinctively pressed herself against the wall.

The man on the stretcher was deathly pale, his disheveled hair clinging to his forehead. Sophia’s breath caught, her nails digging into her palms.

It was Ethan Johnson.

The once proud and confident man now reeked of alcohol, his body limp like a lifeless shell.

"Oh my god, isn’t that the heir to Johnson Group—"

"Serves him right! Dumping his loyal wife for that Taylor woman—"

Hushed whispers followed her as she quickened her pace. A cold gust blew through the open window, and she tightened the collar of her coat.

After placing the food order, she sank onto a bench, lost in thought. The chatter of two nurses across from her drifted over.

"Did you hear? Isabella Taylor was released from prison early."

"How? Wasn’t she—"

"She’s pregnant! Rumor has it the Johnsons are keeping her at the family estate to protect their bloodline..."

Sophia shot to her feet, nearly colliding with the delivery person. She thanked him mechanically, clutching the heavy food containers as she walked back.

Inside the ward, the caretaker discreetly excused herself. Her aunt placed a piece of spare rib in her bowl. "Sophia, what’s on your mind?"

"Nothing," she forced a smile, poking aimlessly at her rice.

Outside, dusk settled over the city. Sophia stared at her reflection in the glass, her thoughts in turmoil. Ethan hospitalized for alcoholism, Isabella out on medical parole—this hospital had suddenly become a minefield.

She needed to arrange her uncle and aunt’s transfer as soon as possible.

Her fist clenched silently. The once-warm meal had long gone cold.