During those days, Amber kept sending me messages. Not even hiding it. Videos. Photos. One after another. At first I didn’t open them. Then I did. I don’t even know why. Maybe I wanted to hurt myself properly. Maybe I just needed to see it with my own eyes.
Hudson stayed by her side the whole time. Not for a moment did he leave. In one video, he was sitting beside her hospital bed, carefully feeding her fruit, peeling everything clean like it was something precious. In another, he was adjusting her blanket, his movements slow, patient… gentle. Gentle. I stared at the screen for a long time. Was this the same man? The same man who never even looked at me twice?
Then another message came. A video.
“Look, Miss Hereford,” Amber said, her face filling the screen as she turned the camera.
Hudson was there, talking to a doctor, his expression serious, controlled. That same cold aura. That same power.
“He sent my mom abroad for treatment,” she continued casually. “Paid for everything. Even bought her a house there. There’s a maid, a private doctor… everything’s arranged.” She laughed a little. “He’s really something, right?”
My fingers tightened around my phone.