Alexander's eyelids fluttered open, greeted by a sharp pain piercing through his head. His vision blurred, and he winced, trying to focus.
A gentle touch on his hand registered in his foggy mind. He turned toward the sensation, hoping against hope that it was Roslyn's hand wrapped around his.
As his vision cleared, disappointment washed over him. Charlotte's concerned face stared back, her eyes locked on his.
Alexander's expression turned cold, his voice gruff. "Let go."
Charlotte's grip on his hand tightened. "Alexander, don't move. You're hurt."
He jerked his hand free, ignoring Charlotte's protest. "Where's Roslyn?"
Charlotte's brow furrowed. "Who?"
Alexander's gaze intensified. "My wife. Where is she?"
Charlotte's face paled. "I...I don't know."
Alexander threw off the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His movements were shaky, but determination drove him.
Charlotte rushed to support him, but Alexander pushed her away. "Don't touch me."