After They Stole My Life, Reborn I Called Another Man Dad Chapter 12

After They Stole My Life, Reborn I Called Another Man Dad Chapter 12

I stared at Chloe.

“You started the fire?”

Austin arrived moments later and shoved me away.

“That’s enough! Look at her! She’s terrified! What more do you want from her?”

I stumbled backward.

For a moment, I felt as if I had been thrown straight back into my last life.

Before Chloe disappeared back then, Austin had protected her exactly like this.

As if the moment something happened to her, everyone else was supposed to step aside.

I pointed toward the ambulance.

“My dad is in there.”

Austin froze for a second before frowning.

“He was rescued, wasn’t he? Chloe almost died in that fire too!”

I suddenly laughed.

Apparently, some things never changed between my two lives.

As long as someone wasn’t dead, they weren’t considered hurt.

As long as they could still breathe, they were expected to give in.

The ambulance doors closed.

I didn’t bother arguing with them anymore.

I climbed into the ambulance and followed Ethan to the hospital.

He spent the entire night fighting for his life.

He survived.

But the burns on his right hand were severe.

The doctor told us that even if rehabilitation went perfectly, there was a good chance he would never regain the same level of movement and dexterity.

han made his living with his hands.

Photography, developing prints, repairing cameras, all of it depended on them.

Losing the use of his right hand was more than an injury.

It threatened everything he had built his life around.

I sat beside his hospital bed all night without closing my eyes.

At dawn, he finally woke up.

The first thing he asked was,

“How did your competition go?”

“You’re still worried about my competition?”

Tears immediately spilled down my cheeks.

Ethan managed a weak smile.

“Did you win?”

“No.”

He barely had the strength to speak, yet somehow he still found the energy to tease me.

“Pathetic.”

I wanted to hit him.

But I was too scared to touch him.

In the end, I could only bury my face against the side of his bed and cry.

He reached over with his uninjured left hand and gently patted my head.

“The studio burned down. So what? We’re both still alive.”

I cried even harder.

My tears soaked into the sheets beneath him.

“Then what about your hand?”