She had completely severed ties with him. She had no business entertaining such thoughts.

Amara quickly reined in her wandering mind, forcing herself to snap back to reality.

She didn’t resist his guidance, allowing him to lead her down the adjacent hallway.

While she was still sick with worry over Keith, Finnian was right. Staying in the same space as Edith and Nathan would only cause a scene, so it was better to wait slightly out of sight.

They sat down on a bench in the quiet corridor. Amara clasped her hands together, her fingers twisting into a white-knuckled knot.

Her face remained remarkably composed, but her restless hands completely betrayed her escalating panic.

Watching her, Finnian felt a dark cloud settle over his own mood. He never could have anticipated a disaster like this.

Someone had been lurking in the shadows, actively plotting to hurt Amara, and they had nearly succeeded.

If Keith hadn’t intervened at the very last second, her face would likely have been destroyed all over again.

Just imagining that horrific outcome made his chest tight with dread.

Then, the reality of Keith playing the hero crossed his mind, and the crease between his brows deepened.

He raised an arm, wanting nothing more than to pull her against his side, but just before he made contact, he remembered she probably wouldn’t welcome the embrace. Fighting the urge, he slowly lowered his hand.

Instead, he offered a soft reassurance. “Amara, try to relax. He’s going to be fine.”

“I heard the burns are only on his neck. His face and the rest of his body are fine, and the scarring can be treated. Don’t let the guilt eat you alive.”

Amara gave a small nod, staying silent.

It sounded simple enough in theory, but she couldn’t just switch off her anxiety. Keith was one of her best friends. How could she not be terrified for him?

After sitting quietly for a few moments, she looked up. “Mr. Everly, how did you find out about this?”

“Word spreads fast on set,” Finnian replied. “I’m in the production group chat, and someone posted about it.”

As the lead investor for Letters from Yesterday, he was in close contact with Mr. Frost and the producers, allowing him to receive updates, in reartime.

Amara nodded again, letting the conversation drop.

They fell back into silence. Finnian kept his head turned, his eyes locked on her profile.

Her expression was deceptively calm, but her eyes were brimming with undeniable worry-worry for another man.

A bitter cocktail of emotions

churned in Finnian’s gut. He was

profoundly grateful that Keith had

saved her, yet watching her fret over the actor filled him with sharp

jealousy.

Several times, he found his hand twitching upward, desperate to pry her trembling fingers apart and soothe her frayed nerves.

But every single time, he forced himself to pull back.

She was already dealing with enough trauma. He didn’t want to add to her stress by forcing his affection on her.

After an agonizing wait, a nurse finally approached them. “Ms. Sullivan, Mr. West’s procedure is finished. Would you like to see him?”

“He’s out?”

Amara shot up from the bench, staring at the nurse with wide eyes. “How did it go?”

The nurse pulled down her mask and smiled. “Everything went perfectly. You can head over now.”

Without another word, Amara took off sprinting toward the operating wing.

Finnian caught up and grabbed her arm to gently slow her down. “Take a breath. They’ve probably already.

moved him to recovery. Let’s go check his room.”

She skidded to a halt, realizing he made total sense. “Okay, let’s head to the ward.”