If I Could Dance With You Again

IICDWYA: 75

Chapter 75

The triplets' check-up had gone smoothly. Leonard Bren and Leo Bryan were already comparing their height charts, while Faline Callie twirled in the hallway, her bracelet jingling. I felt lighter, relieved that they were healthy.

We planned to stop by Wren's clinic afterward—she was their godmother, after all. But her secretary explained she'd been called to an emergency. "You can wait inside, sir, or come back later," she said kindly.

I decided we'd come back. "Let's go, kids," I said, taking their hands.

We were halfway down the corridor when it happened.

A crash cart barreled past, wheels screeching, nurses shouting. My heart lurched. I yanked the children back just in time, pressing them against the wall. The cart nearly clipped us.

"Appa!" Faline cried, clutching my arm.

"It's okay," I reassured, checking each of them quickly—hands, knees, faces. They were fine. Thank God.

But then I looked up.

The patient on the cart was pale, unconscious, tubes already in place. And behind her—running, agitated, eyes sharp with urgency—was Wren.

My breath caught.

I blinked, doubled back, convinced my mind was playing tricks. But no. It was her. Wren Willow. Calm, composed Wren—except she wasn't calm now. She was frantic, her voice clipped as she barked orders to the nurses.

I froze, the triplets tugging at my hands.

Why did the girl on the cart seem familiar? Why did Wren look so shaken, so unlike herself?

My chest tightened. Something was wrong. Something bigger than I could understand in that moment.

I held the children close, my eyes locked on Wren as she disappeared down the corridor with the crash cart.

And for the first time in weeks, I realized: the truth I thought was the most heartbreaking—the truth about Aaliyah—might not be the worst after all.

The crash cart thundered down the corridor, and despite the triplets tugging at my hands, I couldn't stop myself. My legs moved on their own, following the chaos. My heart pounded, sweat breaking across my forehead.

Then I saw her.

Ruby. She was running after the cart, panic etched across her face, so disoriented she didn't even notice us. The triplets called out, "Godmother Ruby!" but she didn't turn. Their voices were swallowed by the urgency of the moment.

"Appa, why did they ignore us?" Leon asked, confused. Leo clutched my sleeve, Faline's blue eyes wide with worry.

I couldn't answer. My focus was locked on the emergency bay ahead.

The crash cart burst through the doors, and I froze at the threshold. Doctors swarmed, their movements doubled in speed, attaching wires, checking vitals, shouting orders. The air was thick with urgency.

Myungho appeared suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise. "Hyung!?" He grabbed my arm, but I didn't respond. My eyes were fixed on the patient, on the scene unraveling before me.

He followed my gaze, his own expression shifting as he realized what was happening.

Ruby was being interviewed by Wren, her voice trembling. "She was talking to me while we were about to go down the stairs. She said her head aches, so I told her to wait—I was going to get her medicine. But she's been complaining lately, but I forgot to tell you. Before I could go, she passed out and fell on the stairs. Wren, what is happening!?"