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“I can’t believe this,” Delilah whispers.
“Right now, we have her in a medically induced coma,” he concludes, his voice grave. “We’ll continue monitoring her progress. She’ll receive regular scans so we can track her reaction to the medication she’s been given. She’s young, and strong, and otherwise healthy from what we can tell. I’ve seen far more severe cases than this turn around seemingly overnight.” I can tell he’s trying to be reassuring, even going so far as to offer a brief smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Delilah is too overcome to speak, so I step in. “Thank you. I’ll leave a number at the nurses’ desk. I would like regular updates on her progress—and I’ll be posting a guard in front of her room.” When his head snaps back, I narrow my eyes. “If there’s a problem, I’m happy to speak to any administrator you bring my way. My name is Luca Bruno, and these women are under my protection. Do I need to say more?”
He draws a deep breath, looking at me through new eyes. “No. I think we understand each other.”
“Glad to hear that.” I looked down at Delilah, whose head rests on my shoulder. “Come on. You can come back later to see her. You need to get home and take care of yourself for her sake. She’ll need you once she wakes up.”
I don’t know what surprises me more: her silent compliance or the fact that I refer to it as home. Not just my home, either.
And it feels right. That’s a shock, too. In a day full of surprises, it might be the biggest one yet.
