A promise.
I nod.
Even though my chest feels tight.
Even though something inside me is screaming not to let him walk away.
But I do.
Because I trust him.
Because I—
The thought cuts off before I can finish it.
He’s already gone.
And the room feels empty again.
But this time—
I don’t feel weak.
I feel…
Certain.
Clay
Voices.
Distant.
Then closer.
“BP dropping.”
“Get him on the gurney—now!”
Hands again.
Moving me.
Lifting.
Pressure on my chest—
Pain explodes.
That drags me halfway back.
Not fully.
Just enough to feel it.
To hate it.
“Stay with me, Clay!”
