And the second I walk inside—
everything in me fractures.
Olivia lies motionless beneath stark white blankets.
Too pale.
Too still.
Bandages disappear beneath her hospital gown. Clear tubes run from her arms to hanging IV bags. Oxygen rests beneath her nose while the monitor beside the bed marks every heartbeat with steady green flashes.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The sound should calm me.
Instead it reminds me how close I came to losing her.
I move toward the bed slowly, like the room itself might shatter if I breathe too hard.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
My voice comes out wrecked.
No response.
Of course not.
I reach for her hand anyway.
Her skin is cool against mine, but warmer than it was back at the compound.
Thank God.
I sink into the chair beside her bed and hold on tighter.
“I’m here.”
The words feel different now.
Back there, I could fight.
Shoot.
Break down doors.
Kill anyone who touched her.
But this?
This is helplessness.
And I hate it so much my chest burns with it.
I glance at the monitors again, like staring hard enough might force them to keep her alive.
