Chapter 153: Where Are You?

Sylvia’s phone rang, breaking the silence in the hospital room.

She slowly lifted her head and glanced down at the phone lying beside her. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her cheeks were still wet. For a moment, she simply stared at the screen, almost too exhausted to react.

The caller ID read Mom.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, sniffed quietly, and swiped to answer before bringing the phone to her ear.

"Sylvia, how’s Amelia?" Stella’s voice came through immediately.

The question was enough to make Sylvia’s eyes fill again. She pressed her lips together, trying to hold herself together, but a sob escaped before she could speak. "Mom, I didn’t see Amelia when I came back," she managed to say. "I don’t know where she is."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"How’s that possible?" Mr. Winston asked before Stella could say another word. His voice sounded tense and confused. "Have you asked that doctor?"

Sylvia lowered her eyes toward the empty bed. "I asked the nurses, but they only told me she was transferred. They couldn’t tell me where she went or who approved it."

"Have you asked the doctor?" Stella repeated, her voice carrying the same worry.

"Not yet." Sylvia immediately pushed herself to her feet, picking up the bag she had brought for Amelia. "I will go and meet him now."

"Yes, go and meet him," Stella said quietly. "Whatever he tells you, let us know. We’re on our way."

"Okay, Mom."

Sylvia ended the call and stood beside the chair for a moment, trying to steady her breathing. Her fingers tightened around the bag’s handle as she glanced at the bed one last time.

She still couldn’t understand how Amelia could have been moved without anyone telling her.

She had only stepped away to get her things. She hadn’t been gone long enough for this to make sense.

Sylvia turned toward the door, opened it, and stepped into the corridor. After closing it behind her, she began walking toward the doctor’s office.

Her steps were quick, but her thoughts were faster.

What if something had happened to Amelia?

The nurse had said she was stable, but how could Sylvia be sure? Nobody had explained anything. Nobody had even told her which hospital Amelia had been taken to.

She gripped the bag more tightly.

The corridor seemed longer than it had earlier. The overhead lights cast pale reflections across the polished floor, and the smell of disinfectant followed her as she passed the rooms. Nurses moved between patients, some carrying files and others pushing small trolleys. A doctor walked past her while reading something on a clipboard.

Sylvia wanted to stop every person she saw and ask if they knew where Amelia was.

Instead, she forced herself to keep walking.

She needed to speak to the doctor first.

When she reached the office, she found two nurses sitting behind the nearby station. One was entering information into a computer, while the other was arranging a stack of patient files. Sylvia approached them, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Excuse me, please. I’m looking for the doctor who was on duty this morning."

The nurse working at the computer looked up. "Which doctor?"

Sylvia described him briefly, explaining that he had attended to Amelia after she developed a severe headache and lost consciousness. She hoped the details would be enough for them to recognize him.

The second nurse paused her work and looked at Sylvia. "Oh, you mean the doctor who attended to Miss Winston?"

"Yes," Sylvia answered quickly. "I need to speak with him. Do you know where he is?"

"He’s not available right now," the nurse replied. "He’s in the theater."

Sylvia stared at her, trying to process the answer. "The theater?"

"Yes. He’s attending to a patient."

Sylvia’s shoulders stiffened.

"How long will he be there?"

The nurse glanced toward the corridor leading to the operating area. "I’m not sure. It depends on the procedure."

Sylvia swallowed, her patience already wearing thin. "Can someone call him? It’s urgent."

"I’m sorry, but we can’t interrupt a procedure unless it’s an emergency."

"This is an emergency," Sylvia replied, her voice rising before she could control it. She immediately took a breath and tried again. "My girlfriend was in that room. I left for a short time, and when I returned, she was gone. Nobody can tell me where she was taken."

The nurse’s expression softened slightly. "I’m sorry to hear that."

"Then please help me find out what happened."

The nurse exchanged a glance with her colleague. "Do you know whether the doctor who approved the transfer was the same one who treated her?"

Sylvia shook her head. "That’s what I’m trying to find out."

"Do you have any transfer documents?"

"No. I wasn’t given anything."

The nurse looked back at her computer, but Sylvia could tell she wasn’t finding the answers she needed.

"Please," Sylvia said, gripping the bag against her side. "I need to know where she went. She was recovering. She was still weak, and she had been having trouble with her memory. I can’t understand why she would be moved without anyone telling me."

The nurse looked at her sympathetically. "I understand your concern, but I don’t have access to the details of her transfer."

Sylvia lowered her head for a moment.

Another dead end.

She felt as though she were walking in circles, asking the same questions and receiving the same useless answers.

"Can you at least tell me when the doctor will finish?" she asked.

"I can’t give you an exact time."

Sylvia nodded stiffly, fighting the urge to raise her voice again. "Fine. I’ll wait."

She moved away from the desk and sat on one of the chairs along the wall, placing the bag on her lap.

The chair was uncomfortable, but she barely noticed. Her attention remained fixed on the corridor leading toward the operating theater.

She needed the doctor to come out. She needed someone to explain what had happened. And she needed to find Amelia.

Sylvia took out her phone and looked at the screen. Her earlier attempts to reach Camila had failed, and Daniela had told her that she couldn’t reach her either.

She tried Camila’s number once more.

The call failed.

Sylvia stared at the screen, her jaw tightening.

"Please, just answer," she whispered.

She tried again, but the result was the same. She lowered the phone and pressed her fingers against her forehead.

Why wasn’t Camila answering?

The question came to her again, but she pushed it aside. She didn’t have enough information to draw any conclusions, and she couldn’t afford to waste time guessing.

She opened Amelia’s contact instead.

For a few seconds, she hesitated before pressing the call button.

The phone rang.

Sylvia held her breath, gripping her own phone with both hands. She waited for Amelia to answer, imagining her familiar voice coming through the speaker.

But the call went unanswered. When it ended, Sylvia immediately tried again.

But it was still nothing.

Her shoulders dropped.

She knew Amelia might not be able to answer, especially if she was being examined or had fallen asleep. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from hoping.

She needed to hear her voice.

Even if Amelia didn’t remember her, even if she asked Sylvia who she was again, at least she would know that she was somewhere safe.

Sylvia blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes. She couldn’t fall apart now.

Not before she found out what had happened.

She stood up and returned to the nurses’ station. "I’m sorry to bother you again, but is there anyone else who can help me?"

The nurse looked up from the computer. "You can speak with the ward supervisor."

"Where can I find them?"

"I’ll ask someone to direct you."

"Thank you."

Sylvia waited while the nurse spoke briefly to a colleague. A few moments later, another staff member came over and directed her to an office farther down the corridor.

She thanked them and hurried in the direction they had indicated.

As she walked, her mind returned to the last time she had seen Amelia.

Amelia had been lying in bed, looking at her with those uncertain eyes. She had been frightened by the gaps in her memory, yet she had reached for Sylvia whenever she needed reassurance.

Sylvia remembered the way Amelia had held her hand. She remembered the quiet request not to leave.

Her steps slowed.

You told me not to leave, Minnie.

The thought brought a fresh sting to her eyes.

I came back. I’m here. So where are you now?

She swallowed hard and continued walking.

When she reached the office, she knocked and waited until someone invited her inside. She explained what had happened, trying to give as many details as she could without allowing her emotions to take over.

The staff member listened carefully and asked for Amelia’s full name and the approximate time Sylvia had returned to the room.

Sylvia answered both questions.

After checking the available information, the staff member explained that they would need to contact the relevant department to confirm the transfer details.

"How long will that take?" Sylvia asked.

"I can’t say for certain. We’ll need to make some inquiries."

Sylvia’s fingers curled around the strap of the bag.

"Please, I can’t just sit here without knowing where she is."

"I understand, but I don’t want to give you incorrect information."

Sylvia nodded, although the answer did little to ease her fear.

"Can you please contact me as soon as you find anything?"

"Of course. We’ll do what we can."

She thanked the staff member and left the office.

The corridor felt colder when she stepped outside.

She stood there for a moment, looking down at her phone. She wanted to call Daniela again, but she didn’t know what else to tell her. They were both trying to reach Camila, and neither of them had any information about Amelia’s whereabouts.

Sylvia finally called Daniela anyway.

Daniela answered after a few rings.

"Sylvia?"

"I’m still trying to find the doctor," Sylvia explained. "He’s in the theater, so I haven’t been able to speak with him yet."

"Did the nurses tell you anything else?"

"No. I’ve spoken to several people, but nobody can tell me where Amelia was transferred."

Daniela sighed. "I still can’t reach Camila."

"Neither can I."

"What are we going to do?"

Sylvia looked toward the end of the corridor. "I’m going to wait until the doctor comes out. Someone has to know what happened."

"Okay. Please call me when you find out anything."

"I will."

She ended the call and lowered her phone.

For a moment, she simply stood there, feeling helpless.

She had always believed that if something happened to Amelia, she would be able to do something. She would stay beside her, find the right people to help, and make sure she received the care she needed.

But now she couldn’t even find her.

She didn’t know where Amelia was. She didn’t know who had arranged the transfer, and she didn’t know whether Amelia had been awake when she left the hospital.

All she knew was that Amelia had been there when she left to get her belongings, and she had disappeared before Sylvia returned.

Sylvia pressed her lips together and wiped the corner of her eye.

She refused to believe that this was the end of their story.

She couldn’t accept that Amelia had simply vanished from her life without a word, leaving her with nothing but unanswered questions and memories of promises she had made.

She walked back toward the waiting area outside the doctor’s office and sat down again.

The bag rested beside her feet.

She looked at it and remembered how carefully she had packed Amelia’s things, imagining how she would arrange them in the hospital room. She had even thought about asking Amelia whether she preferred the softer clothes or the ones she usually wore at home.

Now those little thoughts hurt more than she expected.

She bent forward and pressed her palms against her eyes.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"Minnie," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Where are you?"

She quickly wiped it away when she heard footsteps approaching, but the person who passed her wasn’t the doctor.

Sylvia leaned back in her chair, watching the corridor again.

She would wait.

She would keep asking questions until someone gave her an answer.

And when she finally found Amelia, she would ask her why she had left without telling her.

Not because she wanted to blame her.

Not because she wanted to make her feel guilty.

But because Sylvia needed to understand how the girl who had begged her not to leave could disappear without giving her a chance to say goodbye.

She lowered her gaze to her hands.

Her fingers were trembling.

She clasped them together and took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself while she waited for the doctor to come out of the theater.