Sabrina spent the afternoon alone in the room. At some point, a nurse came to remove the needle.

In the evening, Tyrone reentered the room.

Sabrina turned her head slowly at the sound of the door. Recognizing

Tyrone, she quickly averted her gaze, closing her eyes.

Tyrone took a few steps forward, stopping a couple of meters from the bed. "Sabrina, I understand that you don't want to see me, but could you please eat something?"

Sabrina didn't respond. It was as if she hadn't heard him at all.

She had lost any interest in conversing with Tyrone.

No matter what Tyrone said, she would keep her eyes shut and remain unresponsive.

Even on the second day, she refused to eat.

Standing outside her room in the hallway, Tyrone appeared isolated and desolate.

After a while, he made a decision and made a phone call.

"Hello, Tyrone?" Bradley's voice came.

"It's me. Sabrina had a miscarriage. She's refusing food and drink. Can you come talk to her?" Tyrone's grip on the phone tightened.

She liked Bradley. Would his presence cheer her up?

The phone Line held a moment of static-filled silence before Bradley's voice, edged with reproach, broke through. "Tyrone Blakely! Did your actions lead to her losing the child? Why couldn't you have simply released her?"

His tone grew sharp. "Which hospital is she in? Which ward?"

Tyrone provided the information.

"I'LL be there immediately." With those words, the call ended.

Half an hour later, Bradley stood in the ward, his gaze landing on the visibly worn Tyrone.

He didn't attribute Tyrone's haggard appearance to Sabrina. Instead, he believed it was because of his grandpa, who had recently passed away.