Chapter 185- Hardin's Parents
The doctor’s words finally broke through the roaring in my ears. “He’s out of danger,” she said, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips. “The surgery was successful, but he’s still unconscious. It’ll take time for him to regain his strength.”
A collective sigh of relief filled the room, and I felt my knees weaken. Vera caught my arm, steadying me before I collapsed.
“Can we see him?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor nodded. “One at a time, for now. He’s stable but needs rest.”
As she walked away, the tension in the room shifted to something softer. There was hope now, a fragile thing, but it was there.
“I’ll call his parents,” I said, straightening my back.
Ronny frowned. “You sure that’s a good idea? They’re the Richards. They might not take this well.”
“They’ve been searching for him for years,” I replied firmly. “They deserve to know their son is alive. And if they care about him as much as they claim, they’ll come.”
I didn’t wait for any more protests. Pulling out my phone, I dialed the number I’d managed to get after piecing together Hardin’s tangled family history. The line rang twice before a deep, irritated voice answered.
“This is Richard,” the man said, his tone clipped and formal.
“This is Ariana Miller,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “I’m with your son, Hardin. He’s in the hospital.”
There was a pause, and then his tone turned icy. “I don’t have time for games, Ms. Miller. If this is some petty rivalry tactic—”
“It’s not,” I cut him off sharply. “If you want to see the son you’ve been searching for, come to the hospital. He’s here. He’s alive.”
Another pause. This time, the silence was thick with disbelief. “We’ll be there,” he said finally, his voice quieter, almost unsure.
I ended the call without another word, my hands shaking as I lowered the phone.
“You called them?” Vera asked softly.
I nodded. “They’ll come.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one said anything. We all filed into Hardin’s room one by one, taking turns to see him.
When it was my turn, I stepped inside and felt my breath hitch. Hardin lay on the bed, pale and still, his chest rising and falling steadily. Machines beeped softly, and an IV line ran into his arm.
I sank into the chair beside his bed, taking his hand in mine. “You’re going to be okay,” I whispered, squeezing his fingers gently. “You’re stronger than this. You always are.”
I stayed there until I heard hurried footsteps outside the room. Rising, I walked back to the waiting area just as the double doors swung open.
Two figures stormed in—a tall man with sharp, chiseled features and a woman whose elegance couldn’t hide the desperation in her tear-filled eyes. They were unmistakably Hardin’s parents.
“What kind of game are you playing, Ms. Miller?” Richard Richards demanded, his voice low but furious.
“It’s no game,” I said calmly, stepping forward. “Your son is here. But keep your voice down. This is a hospital.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he snapped, but his wife placed a hand on his arm, silencing him.
Then her eyes fell on something that made her freeze. Her gaze locked on Hardin’s wrist—the diamond cross necklace he wore as a bracelet.
“That… that necklace,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Richard turned to look, his eyes narrowing. “It can’t be,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief.
But his wife wasn’t listening. She stepped closer, tears streaming down her face. “I gave him that the day he was born,” she said, her voice trembling. “I tied it around his wrist because I didn’t want it to slip off. How… how does he have it?”
Her hands covered her mouth as sobs racked her body. Richard reached out to steady her, his own expression torn between shock and realization.
“It’s him,” he said softly, his voice barely audible. “I’ve met him before, but I never… I never saw it. The resemblance, the way he carries himself… he’s my son.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with something I’d never seen before—vulnerability. “How is this possible?” he asked.
“You should ask your sister,” I said coldly. “She’s the one who kept him from you. She’s the reason he grew up thinking he had no family.”
Richard’s jaw tightened, anger flashing across his face, but his wife didn’t seem to hear. She was staring at the doors leading to Hardin’s room, her hands trembling.
“I need to see him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“He’s still unconscious,” I said gently. “But you can wait here until he wakes up.”
She nodded, her tears flowing freely as she sank into one of the chairs. Richard sat beside her, his hand on hers, their earlier anger forgotten in the face of this revelation.
The room fell silent once more, the weight of everything settling over us.
All we could do now was wait.
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