Amara’s voice dropped even lower.
“You’re my last hope,” she whispered painfully. “I can’t let people unlock my phone and discover the kind of stuff I saved at three in the morning.”
Juliet nodded with full seriousness.
“You can trust me,” she said firmly. “No matter what horrifying things I find in that phone, I’ll erase every single trace.”
Amara pressed her lips together tightly, trying to stop the tears of gratitude gathering in her eyes. Then she gave Juliet a small, thankful nod.
At that moment, the operation room opened.
“Mrs. Creed?”
A doctor stepped outside and walked toward them while flipping through a file.
“Mrs. Creed,” he called professionally. “I need you to sign these papers before we take you inside the operation theater.”
The doctor handed her the papers and pointed toward the signature line.
Amara took the papers quietly, and her eyes fell onto the name written there.
‘Mrs. Amara Creed.’
For a moment, she simply stared at it silently.
Then her fingers slowly tightened around the papers.
She lifted her head calmly.
“I need another copy.”
The doctor paused. “Pardon?”
“Please change the name,” she said softly but firmly. “Change it to Miss Amara Hawk.” Her fingers tightened around the papers. “Not Mrs. Amara Creed.”
Juliet froze beside her.
The doctor stared at her for a brief second before nodding respectfully.
“I’ll have the nurse prepare another set immediately.”
A few minutes later, the corrected papers were brought over.
‘Miss Amara Hawk.’
Amara signed them without hesitation and handed them over calmly.
As the doctor walked away, she lowered her eyes.
Then she whispered quietly,
“I will never call myself Mrs. Amara Creed ever again.”
***
A few days later, Amara sat quietly on the hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around her head. The television across from her played softly with the volume lowered almost to mute.
But even without sound, the headlines were impossible to miss.
