The tires screeched against the pavement.
Evelyn Carter lurched forward, only to be jerked back by her seatbelt. Heart pounding, she looked up to see an electric bike swerving dangerously close to their car.
“Focus on the road,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Alexander Hamilton’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he muttered, “Sorry.”
From the backseat, Annabelle Taylor let out a derisive snort and snapped her compact shut. “Give me your phone.”
“The passcode is ry2—”
“Alexander!” Annabelle’s voice sharpened as she snatched the phone from his hand. “Since when do you share passwords with outsiders?”
The air in the car turned icy.
Evelyn pressed her lips together, fingers tightening unconsciously over her knees.
“Don’t take it personally, Dr. Carter,” Annabelle said with a saccharine smile. “Mood swings are common during pregnancy. Besides, phone privacy is protected by law. I’m just asserting my rights.”
“Understood.” Evelyn met her gaze evenly. “But you can call me Mrs. Hamilton now.”
Annabelle’s smile twitched. “Dr. Carter sounds so much younger. Mrs. Hamilton makes you sound middle-aged—”
“I am Mrs. Hamilton.”
Their stares locked in a silent battle.
“Alexander,” Annabelle suddenly turned to the driver’s seat, “we’ll be late if you don’t hurry.”
——
Neon lights flickered outside the lounge bar.
The moment Evelyn stepped out of the car, her phone rang. Alexander frowned. “The hospital again?”
“Probably.” She glanced at the caller ID. “Go ahead without me.”
“Let me drive you—”
“Alexander!” Annabelle waved from a distance. “Richard’s waiting!”
Olivia Lightfoot’s excited voice came through the phone. “Dr. Carter! There’s an overseas training opportunity next month—”
“I’m not going.” Evelyn’s hand instinctively rested on her abdomen. “It’s better for the baby to be born here.”
By the time she hung up, the parking lot was empty.
Deafening music pulsed through the entrance.
Evelyn stood at the doorway, her gaze cutting through the crowd to land on that familiar, upright figure. Alexander stood in the corner, his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting cold light, starkly out of place amid the chaos.
“…Never thought Alexander Hamilton would end up marrying Annabelle.”
“Heard he completely changed his temper just to chase her…”
“Used to be the school’s biggest troublemaker. Now he acts all refined…”
Clatter.
Her phone slipped from her fingers.
A man in a blue suit bent to pick it up. “You okay, classmate?”
“Thanks.” She forced a smile. “I’m not your classmate.”
“Oh, sorry. We booked this place for a private event—”
“I’m here for Alexander Hamilton.”
The man’s expression shifted. “You’re his…?”
