Love Unspoken

Kaitlyn and Freya attempted in vain to pacify the wailing child. "What's going on? Why the sudden fussiness?" Freya cried out in confusion.

Kaitlyn grumbled under her breath, "It must be terrified by the sight of that dummy. Nothing good ever happens when she makes an appearance!"

A transition took place as Quinn was hurriedly ushered into a compact room, outfitted with all the necessary equipment. The room, initially intended for Freya, was now serving as a makeshift medical bay for Quinn. Within this room, history was repeating itself.

Quinn found herself strapped down to a cold, sterile operating table. A masked doctor approached her, brandishing a syringe. Her eyes widened in terror, fixated on the glinting needle under the harsh, unforgiving light.She thrashed about, struggling against her restraints.

As the doctor secured her arm, he warned, "If the needle breaks, you'll be the one to suffer the consequences."However, Quinn was too consumed by fear to heed his words. She fought to escape the iron grip of the servants holding her down. Like a cornered beast, she struggled desperately.The doctor observed her as the veins on her forehead bulged out, her mouth agape as she strained to let out a scream. Her face turned a ghastly shade of red from the lack of oxygen, her body quivering violently.

Quinn's eyes met the doctor's, a silent plea reflected in her gaze.The doctor's brow furrowed, finding it increasingly challenging to maintain his professional detachment."Doctor, proceed. Mrs. Kennedy is waiting," a Evelyn Reed urged. Avoiding Quinn's pleading gaze, the doctor lifted her clothing and inserted the needle into her spine.A familiar, icy pain coursed through Quinn's body as if the needle had pierced not her spine, but her very heart. The pain was bone-chilling. Despair washed over her as her struggles and hopes faded with the spreading numbness of the anesthesia. No one cared about a dummy's broken heart or whether a dummy could feel pain. Without a scream, how could they comprehend her torment?Quinn's grip on the bed rail slackened, her hand falling limply to her side.

She lay there, quiet, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Tears streamed down her face, soaking her hair. Her lips moved silently until consciousness abandoned her.

The doctor observed her lips, a sudden realization dawning on him.She had been calling out for Alexander to rescue her.Indeed, Alexander was her only hope now. But he never arrived. Her phone lay discarded in the yard, raindrops splattering onto the screen.

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It illuminated the dark night. The caller ID flashed. It was Alexander. The faint ringtone was barely audible amidst the patter of raindrops.After a few flashes, the phone returned to its silent state. Back in the living room, Kaitlyn finally managed to soothe the baby.

She cast a glance back at the door.Sensing her concern, Freya queried, "Mom, are you worried about Alexander returning?"Kaitlyn sighed heavily, "I can't explain it, but I can't shake this uneasy feeling."Freya looped her arm through Kaitlyn's, reassuring her with a smile, "Don't fret. He's too busy celebrating Getty's birthday to worry about that dummy.

"The mere mention of 'Getty' elicited a visible grimace from Kaitlyn. Her fondness for Quinn was minimal, and for Getty, it was even less. "That rascal, he never gives me a moment's peace," she muttered under her breath.Freya responded pragmatically, "What can you do if he's smitten? At least Getty's somewhat better than that dummy."

Kaitlyn's face hardened into a frown, "It feels as if he's deliberately defying me. The old man's been gone for years now. I told him to divorce that dummy and marry someone more suitable, but he refused. Not only does he refuse to divorce, but he also has an indecent woman on the side!""It's as if he's trying to provoke me on purpose.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Freya could only shrug helplessly in response."Alexander should have children by now. He always claims he doesn't like them, but whenever he visits Peanut, he brings a whole heap of gifts."Kaitlyn paused, a hint of melancholy crossing her face."Mom?" She was jolted back to reality, replying absent-mindedly, "He's just being polite to you."