Before the two inside could react, Gentry hurried out of the hospital room.
Charlotte had just finished with a post-op patient and was on her way to check in on Judd when she spotted Gentry sneaking out, looking unusually furtive.
“Dr. Moore?” she called, her brow furrowing in confusion.
He jumped, visibly startled, then quickly put a finger to his lips. “Shh.”
“What’s going on?”
“His parents are here,” Gentry whispered, eyes wide. “The tension in there could choke a horse.”
Charlotte peered through the observation window. Sure enough, two more figures had joined Judd’s bedside.
The woman’s silhouette was striking—despite being over fifty, she carried herself with the poise and curves of someone half her age.
By contrast, Mrs. Rayburn had a fuller figure and a serene, matronly beauty, yet her features still held the grace of a classic beauty.
Wealthy families, Charlotte thought, their wives each beautiful in their own way.
Mrs. Carstairs was sophisticated and alluring. Mrs. Rayburn had an ethereal elegance. And her own mother-in-law—pure, dignified, almost untouchable.
Charlotte leaned in for another look, but Gentry tugged her aside. “Take my advice—don’t stare. If Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs start going at it, it’s collateral damage for everyone in the vicinity.”
“Is it really that bad?” she whispered.
“You have no idea. Those two were infamous for their drama when they were younger.” He paused, then gave her a once-over. “And especially since you’re Mrs. Howard now, you’d better keep your head down. Mr. Carstairs can’t stand the Howards.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened, about to ask more, but a nurse hurried over. “Dr. Sterling, there’s a commotion with one of the patient’s families. They’re insisting on moving out of the ICU and into a regular room.”
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