Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 380 There was no stopping Miranda.

Once she was certain Miranda was determined to calong, Mila immediately called Julian's uncle, Nathaniel, to explain the situation. She didn't sugarcoat it- traveling abroad would be dangerous, and she simply couldn't bring the boy with her this time.

She asked Nathaniel to cand pick Julian up as soon as possible.

Nathaniel wasted no time. He drove through the night, arriving with all of Julian's documents in hand. When he saw Mila, he said just one thing: "It's fine. You can take him with you." "My mother-Julian's grandmother-is already overseas. She lives in Italy, but I've spoken to her, and she'll arrange for people to keep a close eye on him." Mila started to object, but Nathaniel cut her off gently. "Honestly, even if this wasn't happening, I was planning to send him abroad soon anyway." Mila froze, surprised.

Nathaniel rubbed his nose, looking slightly embarrassed. "My sister... his mother is about to be released from prison. I can't trust her with him." Now Mila understood.

No wonder Nathaniel had been so eager to have Julian stay with her, pushing her about the trip, even going so far as to introduce her as a stepmother... It all made sense now. The woman who'd killed her husband and raged at the court was about to be freed.

Sensing Mila's thoughts, Nathaniel hurried to explain, "But the stepmom thing-I meant it. He really does like you." Mila waved off his words, exhaustion etched on her face. She didn't have the energy to untangle this mess. "Just have your mother arrange for extra people on her end. Once we land, make sure someone picks Julian up quickly." Her life was too chaotic at the moment.

Honestly, Nathaniel had nerves of steel-or perhaps he was just that trusting. Regardless, the matter was settled. Soon after, Forrest called with news: the Federal Security Bureau had arranged a private flight for them. Since Mila had been cleared, the military's travel restrictions were lifted.

That very night, their flight was ready to go.

A car arrived to pick them up, whisking them off to a remote airfield. There, a mid-sized plane waited in the open, flanked by a dozen armed security officers standing at attention.

Miranda led Julian up the steps first.

Forrest, now working for the Federal Security Bureau, couldn't leave the country himself. His position made him too valuable-and too visible.

He brushed a strand of hair from Mila's forehead with gentle restraint, his voice as calm and steady as ever. "Be careful over there. If anything happens, call my mentor. Don't try to handle everything on your own." Mila nodded, meeting his worried gaze. She managed a small smile and stepped forward, wrapping him in a brief, close hug. Close enough to hear his heartbeat, to breathe in his subtle, clean scent-like fresh-cut grass and rain.

She took a steadying breath, rose on tiptoe, and whispered in his ear, "Thank you." Then, without looking back, she boarded the plane.

The cabin door sealed shut.

As the lingering trace of her jasmine perffaded, Forrest stood motionless, dazed. He instinctively moved to follow her, but the security detail gently kept him back.

The plane taxied, picking up speed, and then soared the night sky.

Forrest tipped his head back, watching as the plane climbed higher and higher, his heart pounding, each beat echoing with longing-almost as if his soul might take flight after her.

There'd been no formal goodbye.

Neither of them needed one. They both knew-they would meet again.

Eldermere, 5 a.m.

A plane marked with special insignia touched down on a deserted runway. The moment its wheels hit the tarmac, dozens of security guards in matching black uniforms surrounded the passengers-two women and a child- shielding them as they exited.

They hurried the group into a waiting armored car.

The security team split up, piling into a convoy of similar vehicles-over a dozen in all. The cars separated, heading off in different directions to avoid detection, Mila's car protected in the middle.

They were taking no chances.

From behind the tinted, privacy-coated windows, Mila glanced out at the city before focusing on her phone. Sophie's video call cthrough just as she settled into her seat.

Sophie was at the hospital and couldn't be there in person.

"How's my great-aunt?" Mila asked, her voice tight with worry.

"She's out of surgery, but still unconscious," Sophie replied. "It's touch and go.

The doctors say if she wakes up, she should be okay." "How long will that take?" Mila pressed.

Sophie shook her head. "No way to know. Maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks, maybe longer... There's just no telling."

Mila's relief instantly vanished, anxiety flooding back. Miranda reached over and squeezed her Hand, e offering comfort. "Don't worry. Your great-aunt is a force of nature-she's made it through worse. The surgery was a success. She'll pull through." Mila could only force a smile.

Julian, who hadn't slept well on the plane, looked up drowsily. "Mom, is Auntie sick?"

He clung to her hand, swinging it gently. "Don't be sad, Mom. I'll stay with you." Then he pressed his littl hands together, closing his eyes in earnest prayer. "Please, God, make Auntie better. Keep Mom happy." The gesture was so serious and sweet, Miranda couldn't help but hug him, teasing, “Julian, where'd you learn that? Asking God for help already?" "Uncle taught me," Julian replied. "He always does it when he can't find me. He says it works every time." The women exchanged a silent look.

"Thank you, Julian. I feel a lot better now," Mila said, gently pinching his cheek. "But that's my great-aunt, honey. You should call her 'great-grandaunt."" "Okay! Please, God, help my great-grandaunt get better!" Mila ruffled his hair, hiding the worry in her eyes.

Soon, the convoy arrived at a private hospital in the heart of the city.

Disguised in hats and bundled up against the early morning crowd, the two women and the child were ushered straight from the m underground parking lot to the top floor-where the intensive care unit awaited.