Something in her shifted. It was subtle but unmistakable.
And a chill crept down my spine.
It was like I was staring at the version of Sloane I thought we’d already left behind.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sloane
Icould feel it creeping in.
Every muscle in my body went taut, my thoughts began to spiral, and that old, suffocating urge to shut down closed in around me.
It was like being dragged backward in time—back to the moment, over a year ago, when everything inside me collapsed.
As if the hours in therapy, the battles fought and won, had all been for nothing.
I stood outside my father’s room in my hospital—a public hospital, of all places, which he openly despised. The only consolation, at least for him, was that he’d been given one of the few VIP rooms we had, a rare luxury in a public facility.
And I couldn’t bring myself to go in.
Cameron stood beside me in silence, waiting for me to make the first move. I knew what he feared—that I would retreat into myself again and shut everyone out. I couldn’t even blame him for thinking that. I was teetering on the edge, caught between the person I had fought to become and the person I used to be.
My father had survived. A broken arm, a broken leg, an emergency surgery carried out through the night by Dean and Gabriel—and still, he made it through. The operation had been long and grueling, stretching into the early hours, and when it was finally over, the verdict was clear: the surgery was a success. He was going to live.
And yet all I could think was, why him? Why did he get to live when Xander did not? What possible reason could God have for keeping men like him in this world?
The thought dug into me like a thorn I couldn’t pull out. I hated myself for even thinking it, but it was there, pulsing beneath every breath. I couldn’t stop it.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. The door between us suddenly felt like more than just a barrier to the room. It was the wall I had built years ago, brick by brick, to keep him out. And now, standing here, I wasn’t sure if I was ready—or even willing—to tear it down.
“Sloane,” Cameron finally said, his voice a whisper.
“Yeah. I know,” I murmured.
I had been avoiding this—avoiding both my parents—from the moment he was brought in. I hadn’t sat with my mother outside the operating room, hadn’t checked on her, hadn’t even let myself walk down this hallway until now. I’d been steering clear of them completely.
Just like I had for the past year and a half.
Because seeing them meant reopening the door to the worst chapter of my life that they had caused—a wound I’d spent a year in therapy trying to stitch closed.
And now, standing here, I knew I had to choose. Step inside… or keep running.
I looked up at Cameron, who was watching me quietly.
“Will you be by my side when I go in?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. I knew that even if he didn’t come inside, he’d be waiting right here, restless with worry.
“I’m going to go in,” I said finally. “Nurse Joanne told me he’s regained consciousness.”
Cameron nodded.
“I can’t avoid them forever, can I?” The words were more for myself than for him. “I’ve been ignoring them for so long. And when their calls finally stopped, I thought maybe they were finally out of my life.”
He nodded again, steady and patient.
“I’m surprised he was driving here,” I went on. “He knows where I live. He could have gone there instead.”
