Chapter 30: Unspoken Shift

The days following the revelation with Queen Amara were different. Gray noticed it almost immediately: Dale's demeanor toward her had shifted. He wasn't as cold as he usually was—there was still the same silent distance, but the sharp, biting edge to his tone had softened, even if ever so slightly. He drove her to the hospital each day, the quiet presence beside her as they traversed the same route felt... different. Not exactly warm, but not as standoffish either. 

Gray couldn't quite put her finger on it, but her instincts told her that something had changed. She suspected—no, she was almost certain—that Dale had overheard her conversation with Queen Amara. It wasn't like Queen Amara to speak to anyone about private matters, least of all to her son. Gray had asked the Queen to keep their discussion confidential, a promise Amara had made without hesitation. Yet, she couldn't ignore the small inkling in her gut that Dale knew more than he was letting on.

But Gray wasn't one to dwell on it. If Dale knew, then he knew. She wasn't about to make an issue out of it. Her focus, as always, remained on her work. And right now, there was something pressing—Noah. 

---

Noah. She hadn't seen him in a while, but he had stayed in her thoughts. The little boy had been her patient for several months now, a child who had fought through more pain than most people could ever imagine. His battle had taken a toll on both his body and spirit, and Gray had watched as his health gradually worsened, despite her best efforts and a constant barrage of medications. 

It was time to check on him. 

The moment Gray entered Noah's hospital room at Aldeburgh Main, the heavy air of familiarity wrapped around her. The walls, adorned with sketches and colorful drawings from Noah's parents and well-wishers, had a homely feel to them. She had spent so much time here that the room had started to feel like a second home. But now, it was a shadow of its former warmth. The air was thick with a heaviness that Gray couldn't ignore. 

Noah, usually full of energy and smiles, lay still in bed, his small body frail under the blankets. His pale face was set in a soft frown, his eyes duller than Gray had ever seen them. 

"Hey there, champ," Gray greeted gently, stepping closer to his bedside. 

Noah's eyes flickered toward her, and a faint, tired smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Dr. Gray…" His voice was faint, barely a whisper. 

Gray's heart clenched. She took a seat beside him, pulling the chair close enough that she could rest her hand on his. "How've you been?" she asked softly. 

Noah's eyes drifted to the ceiling. "I miss you, Dr. Gray," he said, his voice thick with sadness. 

His parents, seated at the far end of the room, exchanged a look. Noah's mother spoke up, her voice heavy with concern. "He's been getting worse, Doc. He's not himself anymore. We've been trying everything, but..." Her voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. 

Gray sat quietly for a moment, contemplating the situation. She had always known that Noah's condition was delicate, but this sudden shift in his mood and health—it was troubling. 

"Have you noticed anything else?" Gray asked, looking back at his parents. 

Noah's father shook his head, his brow furrowed. "He's been withdrawn, not eating as much... It's like he's given up. We don't know what to do." 

Gray turned to Noah, her gaze soft yet firm. "What if we made a change? I want to transfer you to Elara Memorial. It's a place I trust, and I'll be able to visit you more often." 

Noah's eyes brightened slightly at the mention of Elara Memorial. "Really?" 

"Really," Gray said with a smile. "I'll make sure you get the best care there, and I'll be able to check on you every day." 

His parents looked at each other, torn between hope and hesitation. His mother finally nodded. "If you think it's the right move…" 

"I do," Gray assured them. "I'll get everything sorted out today. Noah deserves a change of environment, and I believe this could help him get better." 

After a few more minutes of conversation, Gray made her way to Dr. Oliver Hale's office. The Director of Aldeburgh Main had been a mentor to her for years, both in medicine and in her earlier career as a freelance sniper.

Dr. Hale looked up from his desk as Gray entered. He greeted her with a smile, but his expression quickly grew serious when he noticed the urgency etched into her features.

"Gray, what brings you to my office today?"

"I need your help with something, Dr. Hale," she said, taking a seat across from him.

"Anything," he replied, his tone earnest.

"I'm looking for someone," Gray began, her voice steady despite the weight of the request. "I need you to run a background check, discreetly, on a woman. I have reason to believe she's connected to someone very important to me."

Dr. Hale leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he considered her words. "Of course. But you know I have to be careful with these things. What's the person's name?"

Gray hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. "Catherine. I don't know her last name, but I saw her in Switzerland a few days ago. She looked just like someone I once knew—someone who was... important to me. I need to find out who she is, if she's even real."

Dr. Hale's brow furrowed as he processed the information. "I'll get some of my people on it right away," he assured her. "You know I owe you more than I can ever repay, especially for what you did for my son a few years ago. But you don't have to worry about collecting payment for that. I'm doing this because I trust you, Gray."

Gray shook her head. "This isn't about that. I'm not asking for favors. I'm asking because I trust you. You've been a mentor to me, and I need your help."

Dr. Hale studied her for a moment, his keen eyes narrowing slightly. "Gray," he began carefully, "why aren't you handling this investigation yourself? You've been working on Princess Elara's case for years, and you've proven time and time again that you're meticulous, resourceful, and capable. Why come to me?"

Gray faltered, the question striking a nerve she hadn't quite anticipated. She looked away briefly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Because," she said slowly, her voice quieter than before, "this is different. This... this is personal, Dr. Hale. With Elara's case, I could look at the facts objectively, even though it affected me deeply. But this—this feels bigger, messier. If I try to investigate on my own, my feelings might cloud my judgment. I might miss something—or worse, interpret things the way I want to see them instead of the way they really are."

Dr. Hale leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as he listened intently.

"And," she continued, forcing herself to meet his gaze, "there's another reason. If I dig into this and uncover something I don't want to find—something that might make me question everything about who I am—I don't know if I'll be able to keep myself together. This is one of those times where I have to step back and let someone else take the lead. Someone I trust."

Her voice wavered slightly at the end, but she straightened her shoulders, determined to maintain her composure.

Dr. Hale regarded her for a long moment before nodding. "I understand," he said quietly. "You're doing the right thing, Gray. Sometimes the best investigators know when to pass the baton."

She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Don't thank me yet," he said, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Let me see what I can find first. But I promise, whatever the outcome, you'll have the truth—and I'll make sure it's handled with care."

---

The next few days passed with a quiet tension in the air. Gray's shift at the hospital was steady, and Noah was successfully transferred to Elara Memorial, where she and Louise would be overseeing his care. Gray found comfort in knowing she could visit him more frequently and personally monitor his progress. 

Meanwhile, Queen Amara's updates were less than reassuring. Despite her efforts, there had been no substantial leads on Catherine's whereabouts. Gray could sense the Queen's growing frustration and assured her, "Don't worry. I have a feeling that we'll find her soon. My instincts have always been right. We will find her." 

But even as she spoke those words, a small seed of doubt began to sprout in her mind. It was a strange feeling, one she wasn't accustomed to: uncertainty.

But she had to trust her instincts. They had always guided her this far, and she wasn't about to let them fail her now.

---

As Gray continued to care for her patients, the questions about her mother—and about Catherine—lingered in the back of her mind. But for now, she pushed them aside, focusing on what she could control. The future, it seemed, would have to wait. For now, she would trust that fate would reveal the answers in its own time. Whether they found her. Or it's only a wishful thinking.