Brooke exhales again, slower this time. “She’s going to need choice, Cobra.”
“She’s got it.”
“No,” Brooke says gently. “She has your protection. That’s not the same thing.”
“It is right now.”
“It won’t be later.”
I step away from the wall. Conversation’s done. “She stays,” I say again, final. “You help her wake up without losing her shit. I handle the rest.”
Brooke pushes off the wall as I move past her. “She’s not a problem to solve,” she says quietly.
I don’t stop.
“She’s not a threat to assess.”
I keep walking.
“She’s a person.”
That one lands closer than the others. Not enough to stop me. Enough that I hear it. I don’t turn back. Because if I do, she’ll keep talking. And I don’t need more words.
I’ve got what I need.
Olivia’s in that room. She’s breathing. She’s still here. That’s the only part that matters right now.
Everything else…
I’ll handle.
When I wake this time, it’s different. Not clean. Not easy. But clearer. The fog isn’t gone, not completely, but it’s thinner, like something finally loosened its grip on my brain enough to let real thoughts through instead of fragments. The ceiling above me comes into focus faster. The light doesn’t stab the same way. My body still feels heavy, but not disconnected.
I know where I am. Not the place. But the situation. That matters more.
My hand shifts, and the pull hits immediately. The IV. I look down at it, at the clear line taped to my skin, at the bag hanging beside me like something keeping me here instead of helping me. My fingers twitch again, stronger this time, more responsive.
Good.
That’s good.
Controlis good.
I take a breath. It doesn’t catch like it did before. It still feels too fast, too tight, but it’s mine now. I can slow it if I try hard enough.
In.
Out.
Again.
The memory comes back sharper this time.Not all of it. But enough. Cold air against my face. Footsteps behind me. That voice. “Hey—” Hands. Too many hands. The sting at my neck. The world slipping. Gone.
My stomach turns. I push myself up too fast. Pain flashes through my arm where the IV pulls, and my vision tilts for a second, but I don’t stop. I need to move. I need to not be flat on my back in a room I don’t recognize with people I don’t know.
“Hey, slow down.” Brooke’s voice. She’s there again. She moves closer but doesn’t touch me, and that’s the only reason I don’t recoil completely. “You’re going to make yourself dizzy,” she says.
“I need to leave.” The words come out stronger than I expect. Not steady. But clear.
