"Wh-what happened?" she asked faintly.
"Don't speak just yet," he murmured. "The nurse will bring something to drink. I'll explain everything once they've seen to you."
As if summoned by his words, the nurse entered with a doctor in her wake. The man—middle-aged, with round spectacles perched on his nose—approached the bed with calm professionalism.
The doctor stepped closer, retrieving a watch from his coat pocket. As he checked her pulse, his brow furrowed briefly in concentration.
"Well now," he said. "You arrived unconscious yesterday evening at half past six. It's now nearly eight in the morning. You've been asleep for about thirteen hours, my lady."
The Doctor continued his examination—eyes, bandage, reflexes—and made a few quiet notes before stepping back. "I'd like to ask you a few questions," he continued gently, returning his watch to his pocket. "Just to ensure your wits haven't been scrambled."
Abigail's eyes fluttered closed briefly, then she blinked, managing a faint nod.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"...Abigail."
"And where are you?"
Her eyes drifted toward the walls. "A hospital."
"Good. And do you know what day it is?"
She hesitated. "No. I remember... the road. The carriage. Then—nothing."
"That's quite expected," the doctor said kindly. "Many forget the incident itself. Your speech is clear, and your memory mostly intact. That's a very promising sign. We'll keep you under observation today, but for now, you're stable. Very lucky."
The nurse approached the bed and poured a small cup of water.
Jasper held out his hand without needing to speak.
She passed it to him silently, and he brought it to Abigail's lips with steady hands.
"Small sips, darling," he said gently, echoing the nurse's instruction.
Abigail obeyed, taking a few careful swallows before leaning back with a tired breath. Her eyes lifted to his, searching— uncertainty and a question lingering in their depths.
"It was the horse," he said softly, meeting her gaze. "Something startled it—we believe a dog ran out into the road near the old footbridge. The carriage overturned before the driver could regain control."
He paused, brushing her hair back gently. "You struck your head, broke two ribs and your collarbone. And you gave us all a fright. You scared me, Abigail. Don't ever do that to me again."
"Sorry," Abigail murmured, then coughed gently to clear her throat and took another sip of water.
A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of Nathaniel and Grace. The nurse opened it quietly, ushering them inside.
Grace crossed to the bed immediately, brushing Abigail's hair back with trembling fingers, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank God."
They stayed only a few minutes—long enough to be reassured, but not so long as to overwhelm her. When Grace leaned close to kiss Abigail's brow, Jasper touched her shoulder gently.
"Would you mind going to our home and letting Mrs. Rigby know how Abigail is faring?" he said softly. "She'll be beside herself waiting for word."
Grace nodded, her eyes still damp, and gave Abigail's hand one last squeeze. "I'll see to it."
When they had gone, Jasper resumed his place beside the bed.
Abigail turned her head slightly to look at him.
"You stayed."
