One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 240

Audrey

I stepped through the doors of the children’s ward, and the weight of the world settled on my shoulders. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of machines and the occasional murmur of low voices, the lights dim and surprisingly peaceful.

And then I saw her.

At the far end of the room, cradled by her parents’ arms, their faces streaked with tears, was Ivy. The little girl from the charity gala.

She looked so small in that bed, her tiny body dwarfed by the stark white sheets, her face pale and drawn. Her parents sat on either side of her, clinging to each other, grief etched into every line of their faces.

They had clearly been there for hours, days maybe, watching their daughter fade away.

“I-Ivy?” I whispered, taking a hesitant step forward.

Her mother snapped her head up first, her swollen eyes meeting mine across the dimly lit room. There was a moment of recognition-her mouth parted slightly in disbelief, her lips trembling.

“You’re… you’re the Silver Star,” she breathed. “You came…”

Inodded slowly, although I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze for long. Shame twisted painfully inside of me like a knife in my chest. I turned my eyes to Ivy, who lay so still, her breath shallow and uneven.

“What happened?” I whispered. The little girl had seemed okay at the gala just a couple of days ago-not healthy, of course, but awake and lucid and able to walk around on her own.

But now… she looked on

the

verge

of death.

Ivy’s father cleared his throat, his voice thick with tears. “After the gala…” he began, his words halting as if he was choking on each one. “She collapsed on the stairs. Hit her head on the way down. Between the blood loss and the cancer…. they don’t think she’ll make it through the night.”

His voice cracked, the last words barely escaping his throat.

“I should have carried her,” he whimpered.

walk on her own. She was so excited about being cured.” She glanced at me and let out a tiny laugh. “She insisted on

girl’s hopeful face at the gala flashed through my mind-the way she had looked up at me with so much trust,

had lied. To protect

if it had been worth the cost. If giving her false hope had been

her?” she asked softly,

to the gut. The shame I had been trying to suppress bubbled to

Chapter 240

“At the gala… I lied. I hadn’t shifted yet. I was afraid, and I said what I thought would protect me. I’m so sorry. I should have told the truth, even

had briefly flared in their eyes

14%

quickly, desperate to undo some of the damage, “I have shifted now. And I can help Ivy-if you’ll

flickering across their faces. Then Ivy’s father slowly nodded, and her mother followed suit, clutching

Ivy’s father whispered.

+5

heart raced. This was different from before. This was real. I couldn’t make any

her parents one last time, “from this moment forward,

who’d been silently standing in the doorway, sent a thread of approval down

closer to Ivy, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I was exhausted, so exhausted that I wasn’t even sure if I could heal anyone else tonight, but… I had to

placed my hand. on her forehead. Her skin was cold to the touch,

in such a short amount of time. It responded

could feel it-could sense the cancer in her body like a dark, insidious

Peter’s silver poisoning. This was different-harder. The cancer was a stubborn thing, deeply rooted and pervasive, resisting every effort to dislodge

all my strength, pushing deeper. Sweat beaded on my forehead, the strain making my body tremble. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. Slowly, agonizingly, I

hours, Ivy’s eyes fluttered open. Her face, once pale and drawn, was now brighter, her

she

daughter, sobbing openly. I stepped back, feeling light-headed, my body drained of energy. It was only then that I realized that Edwin had moved to me while I had been working, his hand clutching

me a

sight of Ivy, alive and smiling, just made me

Empty.

so many other children-so many others suffering, their faces etched with the same pain

Oct

Chapter 240

all,” I said, turning