“It is. They came for Mikayla. They knew exactly where she was. And Babushka got caught in the crossfire because I kept Mikayla in my house instead of somewhere secure.”
He’s wrong. It’s not his fault.
It’s mine.
I’m the one who told Natalia about Mikayla. I’m the one who gave her enough information to piece together where Mikayla was being held. If those men came to break Mikayla out, if Elena got shot because of it, then I’m responsible.
I should tell him. Right now. I should confess everything—the phone calls with Dr. Heller, the meeting with Natalia, the journal she gave me, all of it.
But when I look at Stefan’s face, drawn and exhausted and scared in a way I’ve never seen before, the words stick in my throat.
He’s barely holding it together. Elena is the most important person in his world, and she’s lying unconscious in a hospital bed because someone tried to break into his home.
Telling him now that I’m the reason they knew how to find Mikayla? That I’ve been secretly communicating with the mother he thought he killed fifteen years ago?
It would destroy him.
Or worse, it would destroyus.
“You couldn’t have known,” I say instead, despising myself for the lie.
“I should have anticipated every possibility.”
“You’re not a mind reader, Stefan. You can’t predict everything.”
He doesn’t respond. His eyes stay fixed on Elena’s face, searching for any sign of consciousness.
I reach out and take his free hand. His fingers curl around mine, holding on like I’m the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“She’s going to be okay,” I whisper. “She has to be.”
“Yeah.”
But his voice says he doesn’t believe that.
We sit like that for what feels like hours. Nurses come and go, checking vitals and adjusting IVs. Stefan doesn’t move except toshift his grip on Elena’s hand. I watch the monitors, tracking her heart rate and oxygen levels. Everything looks stable. The doctor was right—Elena is a fighter.
But the guilt keeps gnawing at me.Tell him. Just tell him.
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.
“I need coffee,” he says abruptly, standing. “Do you want anything?”
“I’m fine.”
He nods and walks out. The moment he’s gone, I drop my head into my hands. I have to tell him. I know I do. But how? When?
Not now. Not when he’s like this.
I’ll wait. Just a little while longer. Until Elena wakes up. Once Stefan has had time to process everything and the immediate crisis is over, then I’ll tell him the truth.
The door opens and I look up, expecting Stefan with coffee. But it’s not him.
It’s Dr. Heller. She looks uncomfortable, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Dr. Aster. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“Dr. Heller.” I stand. “What are you doing here?”
“I was checking on a patient when I heard about Mrs. Safonova. I’m very sorry.”
