Part 93

Noel felt the weight of Donovan's stare, a look that demanded a truth Noel wasn't ready to give. It wasn't just a child's curiosity anymore; it was the sharp, intuitive suspicion of a boy who knew the adults were hiding a wreckage.

'Stay here with Bowie and Sonny, ok?' Noel commanded, his voice tighter than he intended. He scrambled out of bed, the phone still buzzing like a trapped insect in his palm.

Donovan didn't listen. He didn't stay with Bowie. He stepped further into the room, his eyes fixed on the phone as if he could read the caller ID through Noel's grip. 'You said Mum was helping them,' Donovan said, his voice dropping to a low, accusing register. 'But why didn't she come back with you last night?'

'Donovan, please. Just watch your sister and your brother! Go downstairs and help Aunt Debbie with breakfast, ok?,' Noel pleaded, his thumb hovering over the green icon.

'No,' Donovan challenged, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. 'Are you and Mum really getting divorced? Is that why all of this is happening?'

Noel stopped, the phone still vibrating in his hand, feeling like a traitor. 'Donovan, we'll talk about this later.'

'Where will we live?' Donovan pressed, his voice cracking. 'Will we have to stay with Mum? And what about Bowie?' He looked back at his little sister, who was crawling out of his bed now too, her teddy bear clutched to her chest. 'Does she have to leave us? Does she have to go back to her own mother? You can't let them take her away, Dad. You can't. It's not fair!'

The questions were like physical blows. Noel looked at his eldest son, a boy trying to protect a family that was already fracturing. He couldn't tell him that his mother was the very person the police were questioning now.

'Nobody is taking anyone anywhere,' Noel lied, his heart breaking. 'I promise. Just...give me a minute.'

Noel swiped the screen, the connection clicking open just as he slipped through the door and pulled it shut behind him. He stood in the dim hallway, his back against the wood, listening to the muffled, worried whispers of his children on the other side.

'Miller?' Noel hissed, his voice a jagged edge of desperation.

'Mr. Gallagher,' Miller's voice was fast, driven by a new, sharp adrenaline. 'I just got a call from the ICU ward.'

Noel's grip tightened on the handset until his knuckles ached. 'ICU?? Caro?, please don't tell me her condition is getting worse..'

'The opposite,' Miller replied. 'She's drifting back. They've lowered the sedation and she's starting to respond to her name.'

The air left Noel's lungs in a rush. The grainy CCTV and the mystery SUV suddenly felt like distant noise.

'Can she talk?' Noel closed his eyes and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

'She's confused, but she's trying,' Miller said. 'The doctors say she's fighting to say something. So I think it's best if I drive down there now, I'm already in my car'.

Noel looked down the long, empty hallway of Liam's house. He could hear Donovan's voice through the door, low, rhythmic, and heavy with a forced bravery that made Noel's chest ache. He was promising his younger brother and sister that everything would be okay, even though he clearly didn't believe it himself.

'I'm coming with you,' Noel said into the phone, his voice a harsh, desperate whisper.

'No Mr. Gallagher,' Miller countered. 'The doctors haven't even cleared her for a formal interview yet. If you show up now, you're just going to get in the way. I need to see if she can give me a name before she drifts off again.'

'I can't stay here, Miller,' Noel hissed, pacing the small stretch of hallway. 'My kids are in the room behind me, asking me if their family is falling apart. They're asking if Bowie is being taken away. If Caroline knows something, if she can clear Sara's name..or...or end this..I need to be there.'

'I understand,' Miller's tone softened for a split second, the sound of his indicator clicking in the background. 'But if she wakes up and sees you before she sees me, her emotional reaction might compromise whatever she's trying to say. Let me get a lead first. I'll call you the second she's lucid.'

Noel leaned his head against the wall. He felt like he was being shredded between two worlds: the one inside the guest room where his children needed their father, and the one in that ICU, where the love of his life was finally clawing her way back to consciousness. She was waking up to the aftermath of an attempted murder, a cold-blooded plot that his children's mother was likely halfway responsible for, if not more. The weight of that dual life was crushing him, caught between protecting his kids' innocence and seeking justice for the woman who almost lost everything because of his wife.

'Fine..but if I don't have more news from you in an hour, I'm going over there myself' he hung up before Miller could argue. As he pocketed the phone, the guest room door creaked open again. Donovan stood there, his arms crossed, looking less like a boy and more like a guard.

'Was that about Caroline?' Donovan asked, his voice flat. 'if she's better, then Mum doesn't need to help the police anymore, and then she can finally come home?'

The logic was so simple, so innocent, that it made Noel's chest tighten. Donovan was trying to find the quickest path back to a normal life.

'Donovan...' Noel started, but his son cut him off.

'I miss Mum and I don't want to miss her anymore,' Donovan whispered, his eyes shimmering. 'And I don't want to miss you either. I don't want us to be in different houses. Can you go get Mum from the police station then? Can we just be a family again?'

The plea was raw, stripping away the boy's defensive layers. Noel felt a physical ache in his chest. He looked at his eldest son, a boy trying to glue together a shattered mirror, and realized he couldn't keep the truth from him any longer. Not this part.

'Donovan, listen to me,' Noel said, crouching down to meet his son's eye level. 'Caroline getting better is a miracle. It helps the police. But it doesn't change what's happening between me and your mum.'

Donovan's face hardened, the hope dying in his eyes. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm going through with the divorce,' Noel said, the words heavy and final. 'Even when this is all over..things aren't going to go back to the way they were. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

Donovan pulled back as if he'd been burned. 'So, you're just leaving our Mum?'

'It's complicated, Donovan. It's about more than just this..'

'It's not complicated!' Donovan shouted, his voice cracking 'You're just giving up on us!'

The boy turned and bolted down the stairs before Noel could reach for him. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the house, followed by the slammed door of the kitchen downstairs.

Inside the guest room, Bowie let out a small, startled whimper, and Sonny's voice rose in a confused murmur, asking where Donovan had gone.

Noel stood frozen in the hallway, his back against the guest room door where his two youngest waited. Donovan's words, You're just giving up on us, echoed in his mind like a physical ache.

He wanted to charge down those stairs. He wanted to grab his son and scream the truth: that it was their mother who had given up first. That she was only interested in his bank account, and that she was currently the prime suspect in a cold-blooded plot to eliminate Caroline.

But he couldn't. That was the burden of being a father, absorbing the poison so they didn't have to. He would have to carry the weight of being the "villain" in their story to protect the image of the mother they loved, no matter how hollow and ugly that image truly was.

Downstairs, the house erupted. He heard Liam's deep voice rumble in surprise as Donovan collided with the kitchen, followed by Debbie's warm and concerned voice, 'Donny? Sweetheart, what's wrong?'

The guest room door opened just an inch. Sonny stood there, holding Bowie's hand 'Daddy? Why was Donovan shouting? Is Mum angry at us? Is that why she isn't back home yet?'

Noel swallowed the bitterness in his throat and forced himself to kneel. 'No, Sonny. Mum isn't angry. Donovan is just..he's very tired and sad. Like me.'

'Is she coming today then?' Sonny asked, a flicker of hope in his eyes that almost made Noel crumble. But before Noel could tell him no, Liam's voice thundered up to them.

'What are you two still doing up there? I'm down here slaving behind a hot stove making pancakes!!' Liam stood at the bottom of the stairs, spatula in hand, chest puffed out in a way that was pure Gallagher, arrogant, loud, and intentionally distracting.

'Come on, Sonny! Bowie! Move it or lose it!' Liam barked, a wild, manic grin plastered on his face. 'I've got chocolate chips, enough syrup to sink a ship, and I swear on my life, if you're not in those chairs in ten seconds, I'm eating the lot. I'm starving, and I've got zero self-control today!'

Sonny let out a tiny, shaky laugh, the grip on Bowie's hand finally loosening as Liam's chaotic energy acted as a human shield against the tension.

'And Sonny?! don't even start about your Mum, she's on a top-secret mission today, alright? James Bond stuff. You've got me instead. Now, who wants the one that looks like a spaceship?'

The two kids didn't need a second invitation. The lure of chocolate chips and the whirlwind of their uncle Liam's nonsense was enough to momentarily bridge the gap over the abyss Noel had just opened. They scrambled past their father, their little feet thundering down the stairs toward the safety of the kitchen noise.

Noel gave Liam a grateful nod and as soon as the kitchen door closed, he headed straight for the shower to get ready and head to the hospital.

He dressed quickly, and grabbed Liam's car keys. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he could hear Liam shouting about "syrup structural integrity" and the kids laughing. It was a fragile, manufactured joy, but it gave him the window he needed to slip out the front door.

The drive to the hospital was a blur of soft morning light and white-knuckled gripping of the steering wheel. Noel felt the adrenaline from the house, Donovan's sadness and anger, the heavy scent of pancakes, slowly bleed away.

As he rounded the corner of the ICU hallway, he saw Miller stepping out of Caroline's room, pulling the heavy door shut with a soft click. The detective looked like he had one too many sleepless night, his suit jacket rumpled, but his eyes sharpened the second he spotted Noel.

'You're early,' Miller said, sliding his notebook into his breast pocket.

'I told you I was coming,' Noel replied, his voice sounding thin in the sterile silence of the corridor. He tried to peer past Miller through the small observation window, but the blinds were drawn. 'How is she? Is she..is she talking?'

Miller sighed, checking the hallway for passing nurses before stepping closer. 'She's awake. Weak as water, but she's conscious. I've just finished the interrogation.'

Noel's heart hammered against his ribs. 'Did she say anything? About the accident? About.. Rob..or Sara?'

Miller's face went grim. 'She didn't have much to say, Mr. Gallagher. She's still drifting in and out, and her voice is barely a whisper. But she gave me enough.'

He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. 'She confirmed that Sara threatened her directly, to her face, just a week before Rob abducted her. She knew Sara was involved long before she ended up in that ICU.'

The air left Noel's lungs. The confirmation was final. While Liam was back at the house making spaceships out of batter to protect the kids' innocence, the police were officially closing the net.

'After what Caroline just told me, Sara isn't walking out of those doors today. We're officially changing her status from "person of interest" to "suspect in custody."' Miller added, checking his watch.

Noel bit his lip. The woman his children called "Mum" was trapped in an interrogation room, while the woman he loved was finally speaking the truth that would dismantle his family forever.

'Go on, go see her,' Miller said, stepping aside. 'You've got five minutes. Be gentle, Mr. Gallagher, she's somehow terrified that Sara isn't finished with her yet.'

Noel placed his hand on the heavy door handle, his fingers trembling. Miller's words echoed in his mind: suspect in custody. Sara wasn't coming home.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. The scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic, hollow beep of the monitors washed over him.

Caroline lay there, looking smaller than he remembered, but as he came closer, her undeniable beauty once again left him breathless. Even with the pallor of her skin, the bruising, and the clinical harshness of the tubes, she was breathtaking. There was an ethereal, stubborn beauty to her, a grace that the violence of the last few weeks hadn't managed to extinguish. She looked like a fallen angel trying to remember how to breathe.

As he reached her bedside, her lashes flickered. Slowly, her eyes drifted open. She stared at the ceiling for a hollow heartbeat before turning her head. When she saw him, she didn't smile. Instead, a flash of raw, instinctive terror crossed her face, and she recoiled, pressing herself into the mattress. The dam broke then; silent, heavy tears began to spill down her cheeks, soaked in the bitter memory of their last encounter.

The last time he'd seen her, she had been a hollow shell, drugged and paraded through The Ivy by Rob like a trophy. He had let his fury take the lead, lashing out with words that cut like knives. He'd called her a traitor, spat his contempt at her, and walked away, never once seeing the victim hiding behind her glazed eyes.