Georgia's POV
Since I couldn't drink champagne, I slipped away early while everyone was still in the living room, laughing, retelling stories, and replaying Ella's dramatic meltdown-turned-engagement. It felt like a warm bubble of happiness, but something in me tugged, whispering that I needed rest.
Turned out that little voice was right.
Before the sun even thought of rising, Oliver called.
Nick jolted awake beside me, grabbed his phone, and his tone sharpened instantly. The shift alone made my eyes snap open.
By the time he got off the call, he was already getting out of bed. "Where are you going?" I asked, pushing myself up.
Nick paused, turned to me, and sat on the edge of the bed. His hand gently swept the stray hair from my cheek, his expression soft but tense—too tense.
"The person assigned to watch Irene took her to the hospital," Nick said quietly. "She's bleeding. Ollie and I are heading there now. Go back to sleep, babe. I'll update you as soon as we get there."
