From a Wrong Turn to Mr. Right novel Chapter 329

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“You go ahead,” Adelina Lane said softly, knowing full well he couldn’t just stand around outside doing nothing. She wouldn’t stop him.

Lance Carter got on the phone with the doctor, while Ethan Carter was ushered off to change into sterile scrubs.

He’d barely set foot into the delivery ward when Damian Franklin came barreling down the hallway, practically tripping over his own feet.

“How is she? Where’s Olivia? Is she okay?” he panted, worry etched deep into every line of his face.

He was still in sweats and a faded old T-shirt—obviously, he’d dropped everything and rushed over the second he got the call.

“She’s in there. Labor just started,” Lance said, placing a reassuring hand on Damian’s shoulder, though his own nerves were showing. “Hang in there. She’s going to be alright.”

“How did this even happen?” Damian’s voice was thick with anxiety, his brow furrowed so tight it looked like it might never smooth out again.

The phone call had been rushed—they’d only managed to say Olivia had gone into labor early; he didn’t even know the full story before he was out the door.

“Ethan was in a car accident,” Lance explained, his voice low. “Olivia found out and, well, the stress brought on the labor.”

“A car accident?” Damian blanched, looking even more shaken. His heart felt like it had dropped straight into his stomach. “Is Ethan—? I mean, is he okay?”

“He’s awake, and he’ll be fine,” Adelina jumped in. “He wouldn’t rest until he could be with Olivia. He’s in there now, with her.”

Damian let out a breath he’d been holding. “God, how did the accident happen?”

“We’re still figuring that out,” Lance said, his jaw tight. “But right now, what matters is Olivia. She’s our priority.”

Damian just nodded, whispering almost to himself, “She’ll be okay. She has to be okay…”

His words hung in the air, uncertain if they were meant to comfort himself or everyone else.

The little waiting area outside the delivery room went from two people to three, but none of them had any appetite for small talk. Worry was written all over their faces.