Because the tension’s different now.
Not panic.
Not chaos.
Controlled.
Contained.
Won—for now.
Hannah doesn’t notice me at first.
She’s focused on Clay.
Watching him like she’s waiting for something.
Or someone.
“Status?” I ask.
Her head turns slightly.
Just enough to acknowledge me.
“Stable,” she says.
But her tone?
Still tight.
Still not satisfied.
“He’s not out of it yet,” she adds.
“I can see that.”
Silence stretches.
I take another step closer.
That’s when I notice—
She’s holding his hand.
Not loosely.
Not absentmindedly.
Firm.
Intentional.
And Clay—
Even half out of it—
Is holding on.
