However, the tears that lingered at the edges of her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil, a silent testament to her pain that Jarrod could not ignore.

A flicker of anger crossed Jarrod's features. He rubbed the corners of Nicole's eyes with his calloused fingertips, pressing a bit too firmly as if trying to release his pent-up frustration.

Quickly, the skin around her eyes reddened from the harsh friction.

Even unconscious, Nicole seemed to sense the discomfort. She furrowed her brow and whimpered softly.

Jarrod noticed her discomfort and softened his touch, caressing the reddened area gently without further action.

As dawn broke, Nicole's eyes fluttered open to find Jarrod's face close to hers. He was seated beside her bed, absorbed in a finance magazine.

Nicole was unsure if he had been there throughout the night or had just arrived.

Startled, she gripped the bed sheets tightly, her eyes wary and searching.

Confusion clouded her mind. She hadn't fully grasped her surroundings.

Yet, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?"

Jarrod set the magazine aside, his eyes narrowing slightly as he countered, “What are you hiding?"

Nicole's grip on the sheets tightened, her expression turning stern.

“I asked you first!"

Jarrod responded with a dismissive snort, "There's not a part of your body I haven't seen before."

Nicole's expression shifted dramatically with Jarrod's words.

Now fully aware, she recognized she was in the hospital. Memories of events prior to her loss of consciousness flooded back. She remembered seeing Roscoe.

Nicole's face contorted with mixed feelings of grief and something less than grief.

Jarrod watched her closely, his eyes narrowing. "Still dwelling on your fantasy?"

His voice carried a chill, mocking edge, revealing his long-held knowledge of Roscoe's return and Roscoe's memory loss, something Jarrod had likely orchestrated. Not just likely. Certainly.

A profound sorrow welled up in Nicole. She felt she and Roscoe were lab rats, entirely at the mercy of Jarrod and the Watts family, who held power over her and Roscoe's fates, dictating life or death without their input. Despite their struggles, the outcome seemed fixed.